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SCATTERED  LEAVES  FROM  A  PHYSICIAN'S 

DIARY. 


By 
ALBERT  ABRAMS,  A.  M.,  M.  D.  (Heidelberg),  F.  R.  M.  S., 

Author  of  "  The  Antiseptic  Club,"  Etc. 


ST.  LOUIS,  MO. : 

FORTNIGHTLY  PRESS  Co. 

1900. 


439362 


ALBERT  ABRAMS,  M.  D. 


TO    MY    WIFE, 

IN  WHOSE  COMPANY,  DURING  A  TOUR  OF  THE 
WORLD,  THESE  STORIES  WERE  WRITTEN,  THIS 
VOLUME  IS  AFFECTIONATELY  DEDICATED  BY 

THE  AUTHOR. 


Copyright,  1900,  by 

FRANK  PARSONS  NORBURY, 

St.  Louis,  Mo. 

All  rights  reserved. 


LEAF   I. 


MY    FIRST    PATIENT. 


f  EARNING  how  to  wait  is  the  initiatory  experience  in  the  career  of  every 
\_j  physician.  During  my  apprenticeship  to  patience  as  a  novitiate  in 

medicine,  time  passed  slowly,  and  I  applied  myself  assiduously  to  the 
study  of  complicated  diseases,  which  will  occur  perhaps  once,  if  at  all,  in 
the  professional  life  of  a  busy  physician. 

The  ordinary  diseases,  like  dyspepsia,  bronchitis,  colic,  and  even  tooth- 
ache, were  dismissed  without  even  a  moiety  of  attention.  Much  to  my 
sorrow,  I  soon  learned  that  only  the  rich  and  influential  physician  could 
afford  to  diagnose  an  obscure  disease  and  call  it  by  its  technical  term. 

If  an  unknown  physician  diagnoses  a  case  of  toothache,  he  tells  the 
sufferer  it  is  toothache,  but  the  opulent  consultant  is  privileged  to  call  it 
odontalgia,  and  regulates  his  honorarium  accordingly, 

Soon  I  got  to  be  very  busy  practicing  economy,  and  I  purchased  a  book, 
entitled  "  How  to  Live  on  Five  Dollars  a  Week."  I  found  the.book  emi- 
nently practical,  and  could  have  followed  its  precepts  very  comfortably  if  I 
only  had  the  five  dollars, 

One  day  when  the  gastric  vacuum  was  becoming  pronounced,  and 
when  the  coloration  of  my  feelings  was  assuming  a  cerulean  aspect,  Mrs. 
Dennis  Mulcahy,  one  of  my  neighbors,  entered  the  waiting-room  of  my 
office.  I  saw  Mrs.  Mulcahy  through  the  key-hole.  I  was  so  perturbed  that 
I  hardly  knew  what  to  do.  This  was  evidently  to  be  my  first  patient.  I 
didn't  want  tolose  her,  nor  did  I  deem  it  proper  to  admit  her  at  once  into 
my  consultation-room. 

I  coughed  loudly  to  assure  here  that  I  was  in,  and  then  I  walked 
stealthily  around  to  the  door  of  the  waiting-room,  locking  it  from  the  out- 
side to  be  sure  that  Mrs.  Mulcahy  would  not  escape.  Then  1  hurriedly  re- 
arranged my  room.  Taking  from  the  book-case  some  ponderous  volumes,  I 
distributed  them  carelessly  about  my  writing  desk.  I  gathered  up  all  the 
cigar  stumps,  and  I  gave  special  prominence  to  a  skull  which  had  done  duty 
for  over  twenty  years  in  contributing  food  to  a  friend  of  mine,  who  had  died 
a  confirmed  gourmand.  Then  I  coughed  again,  and  then  as  if  talking 
loudly  to  a  supposititious  patient,  I  said,  grandiloquently,  "My  dear  sir,  I 
appreciate  your  check  of  one  thousand  dollars,  which  you  have  given  me 
for  saving  the  life  of  your  child,  and  if  you  need  my  services  again,  why 


MY  FIRST  PATIENT. 


call  on  me.'"  '  '"Dbn'jt  thank  me  again,  my  dear  sir,  this  check  is  genuine 
sincerity,' vin&  gdod'.day.to  you." 

Having  'vfelrvtrecT -myself  of  these  words,  with  my  last  fifty  cents  in  my 
pocket,  1  peeped  through  the  key-hole  to  note  the  effect  of  my  language  on 
Mrs.  Mulcahy. 

She  was  pacing  the  room  nervously,  in  evident  distress. t  She  must  be 
suffering  from  some  nervous  trouble.  I  looked  through  an  index  of  symp- 
toms very  hurriedly,  and  found  that  nervous  walking  indicate  some  nervous 
disease.  I  opened  the  door  and  admitted  Mrs.  Mulcahy. 

"  Sit  down,  Mrs.  Mulcahy,  and  excuse  me  for  keeping  you  waiting,  the 
fact  is  I  was  very  busy.  You  are  suffering  from  a  nervous  affection,  Mrs. 
Mulcahy.  Your  eyes  looked  distressed,  and  your  pulse  is  somewhat  agi- 
tated." 

"  Sure  its  not  me  at  all  that  schick,  dochther.  Its  me  own  darlint  son 
Patsy/' 

"  Poor  little  Patsy  sick,"  I  queried,  "  why  what  ails  him  ?" 

"  Shure  its  fur  you  to  find  out,  and  if  I  knew,  would  I  be  coming  to 
you  at  all,  at  all  ?  Patsy  has  schwallowed  something  down  his  surcofagus, 
so  the  other  dochlher  said,  and  its  the  viry  divil  its  playing  wid  his  lights 
ever  since." 

•'Mrs.  Mulcahy,"  replied  I  with  gravity,  "if  another  physician  is  in 
attendance,  it's  against  the  code  for  me  to  visit  Patsy," 

"  Agin  the  pfwat,  did  you  say  ?" 

"Against  the  code,  Mrs.  Mulcahy." 

"  I  told  you  it  pfwas  not  a  cowld.  but  an  illumation  of  his  lights." 

I  saw  it  was  useless  to  discuss  the  code  with  Mrs.  Mulcahy.  She  told 
me  "that  the  former  physicians  were  no  longer  in  attendance,  and  that  they 
had  given  her  Patsy  up,"  and  here  she  wept  bitterly. 

1  remembered  Patsy  very  well  ;  a  dirty,  freckled  little  rascal  with  red 
hair.  Oftentimes  in  the  bitterness  of  my  heart,  when  I  had  cursed  my 
fate,  and  when  I  sought  solace  in  walking  around  the  neighborhood,  I  fre- 
quently encountered  Patsy. 

He  was  a  saucy  imp,  generous  to  a  fault,  and  the  pride  of  the  neigh- 
borhood. Everybody  liked  Patsy,  and  so  did  1.  Persuasion  was  no  longer 
necessary,  and  1  accompanied  Mrs.  Mulcahy  to  her  humble  home  in  the 
poverty  stricken  district,  and  after  ascending  four  flights  of  stairs,  I  entered 
the  sick  chamber— a  room  without  a  light  and  a  stifling  atmosphere. 

There  in  his  little  cot  lay  poor  Patsy,  feeble  and  emaciated.  Patsy 
held  forth  his  tiny  arms,  and  I  allowed  them  to  encircle  my  neck.  My  eyes 
moistened  at  Patsy's  almost  inaudible  entreaty  to  "  do  sunthin'  for  him." 

"  He  wanted  to  play  wid  de  kids  again.  He  wanted  to  grow  up  a  big 
man,  and  buy  his  mammy  all  de  ginger  cake  she  could  eat,  and  all  de  mer- 
lasses  candy  she  could  swallow." 

There  was  more  genuine  sincerity  in  Patsy's  nature  than  could  be 
found  in  all  the  boasted  triumphs  of  philanthropy.  Could  little  Patsy 
divine  what  passed  through  my  mind  at  that  time,  he  would  have  little 
faith  in  my  ability  to  help  him.  Three  excellent  physicians  had  attended 
him  and  did  him  no  good,  while  I,  a  mere  amateur  in  medicine,  was  asked 


MY  FIRST  PATIENT.  5 

to  conjure  with  miracles.  "  The  race  is  not  always  to  the  swift,  nor  the 
battle  to  the  strong/'  thought  I. 

I  hardly  knew  where  or  how  to  begin  the  examination.  I  recollected 
that  my  text- book  on  diagnosis  counseled  the  examination  to  be  made  after 
a  methodical  system.  1  knew  the  system  perfectly  at  college,  but  at  this 
moment,  my  mind  was  a  blank.  I  tried  to  look  wise.  My  professor  of 
diagnosis  always  looked  wise  when  he  was  perplexed.  I  thumped  Patsy's 
chest  good  and  hard.  I  thought  that  was  about  the  proper  thing  to  do. 
Then  I  looked  at  his  tongue,  felt  his  pulse,  looked  at  his  eyes  and  felt  the 
pulsations  of  his  heart. 

Perhaps  Patsy  had  eaten  something  indigestible,  so  I  took  another  look 
at  his  tongue.  It  was  heavily  coated,  and  I  called  Mrs.  Mulcahy's  atten- 
tion to  it.  The  good  woman  observed  that  Patsy  really  had  a  coat,  for  her 
son  Jimmy  had  an  ulster  in  his  throat  two*  weeks  back.  There  remained 
one  thing  for  me  to  do,  and  that  was  to  listen  to  his  chest,  so  I  removed  a 
stethoscope  from  my  pocket  and  applied  it  to  Patsy's  chest.  I  listened  long 
and  earnestly.  I  must  have  pressed  the  end  of  the  stethoscope  very  heav- 
ily on  my  patient's  chest,  for  he  started  to  yell,  until  I  appeased  his  injured 
feelings  by  giving  him  a  cachou,  a  box  of  which  1  always  carried  with  me 
to  remove  the  odor  of  tobacco,  should  chance  ever  permit  me  to  visit  a  pa- 
tient. 

What  I  heard  over  Patsy's  chest  only  the  stars  know.  The  air  enter- 
ing his  lungs  sounded  like  a  storm  at  sea.  The  storm  was  in  his  lungs, 
and  the  sea  was  in  my  cranium.  There  was  cooing,  hissing  and  whistling 
sounds  to  be  heard.  Mrs.  Mulcahy  was  right.  Patsy  had  swallowed  some- 
thing. Perhaps  it  was  his  toy  locomotive.  It  sounded  as  much  like  that  as 
anything  else.  Turning  to  Mrs.  Mulcahy,  1  inquired  if  Patsy  had  among 
his  playthings  a  locomotive.  She  answered  in  the  affirmative.  I  observed 
I  was  following  up  the  proper  line  of  inquiry.  "  Where  is  the  locomotive 
now  ?"  1  asked  with  interest.  She  declared  she  did  not  know.  Perhaps 
after  all,  Patsy  had  swallowed  the  locomotive,  and  1  felt  justified  in  arriving 
at  the  conclusion  from  the  facts  adduced. 

Patsy  had  a  dilatable  gullet.  This  I  knew  from  my  acquaintance  with 
him,  for  I  often  saw  him  dispose  of  a  large  apple  in  two  bites.  Patsy  had  a 
locomotive,  and,  furthermore,  the  locomotive  was  missing,  ergo,  Patsy  had 
swallowed  the  locomotive.  I  recalled  the  instance  of  the  clever  physician, 
who  when  visiting  a  patient  told  him  off-hand,  that  he  had  eaten  too  many 
oysters,  which  fact  he  had  determined  by  looking  under  the  bed  of  the  pa- 
tient and  seeing  a  number  of  oyster  shells. 

I  didn't  communicate  my  diagnosis  to  Mrs.  Mulcahy,  for  the  latter  had 
returned  triumphantly  to  the  room  with  the  locomotive  in  her  hand.  I 
didn't  know  what  was  the  matter  with  Patsy.  If  I  had  been  a  prosperous 
physician,  I  could  content  myself  with  this  knowledge,  but  I  was  poor  and 
unknown,  and  a  diagnosis  had  to  be  made  at  all  hazards.  I  awoke  from  my 
reverie  by  a  question  from  Mrs.  Mulcahy,  who  wanted  to  know  "  what  was 
the  rnatter  with  Patsy."  In  reply,  I  said,  "  don't  ask  me  what  is  the  mat- 
ter, but  where  is  the  matter."  "  Patsy,"  1  continued  gravely,  "suffers 
from  the  interchange  of  carbonic  acid  in  his  blood  for  oxygen."  This  was 


MY  FIRST  PATIENT. 


a  normal  process,  but  it  sufficed  to  assure  Mrs.  Mulcahy  of  the  profundity 
of  my  medical  skill.  After  this  admission,  I  promised  to  send  the  necessary 
medicine  from  the  drug  store  and  left  the  house. 

I  returned  to  my  office  at  once  and  looked  up  my  book  of  prescriptions. 
I  was  astounded  at  the  number  of  prescriptions  recommended  as  specifics 
for  the  different  diseases.  If  1  only  knew  what  was  the  matter  with  Patsy, 
1  would  have  no  difficulty  in  making  out  the  proper  prescription,  and  that 
was  where  the  difficulty  lay. 

The  prescriptions  began  with  abscess  and  ended  with  the  zymotic  dis- 
eases. I  thought  I  would  take  chances  on  the  prescription,  so  closing  my 
eyes  with  a  pencil  in  my  hand,  I  described  a  circle  in  the  air  with  my  pen- 
cil, and  let  the  latter  fall  on  the  index  page  of  the  different  diseases.  The 
pencil  struck  pneumonia.  Turning  to  the  page,  I  found  twenty-five  differ- 
ent prescriptions  recommended  «for  pneumonia.  I  then  took  my  dice  and 
threw  twice.  I  threw  in  all  fifteen.  So  I  selected  the  fifteenth  prescription. 
I  wrote  out  the  formula,  and  affixing  my  signature,  brought  it  to  the  drug 
store,  with  instructions  to  send  the  medicine  at  once  to  the  home  of  Mrs. 
Mulcahy  1  then  returned  home,  happy  in  the  realization,  that  I  had  pre- 
scribed for  my  first  patient. 

I  had  not  retired  but  an  hour,  when  all  kinds  of  fears  began  to  assail 
me.  What  if  1  had  prescribed  the  wrong  medicine  ?  What  if  the  druggist 
had  not  compounded  the  medicine  properly  ?  What  if  Patsy's  mother  had 
given  him  too  much  of  the  medicine  ?  Such  were  the  queries  which  rapidly 
suggested  themselves  to  my  perturbed  imagination.  At  last  I  fell  asleep, 
only  to  awake  in  a  few  hours  with  a  sudden  start,  and  with  the  conviction 
hurled  at  me  like  a  thunderbolt,  that  the  prescription  which  I  had  given 
Patsy  was  for  adults  only,  and  that  the  dose  should  have  been  one-seventh 
the  amount  prescribed. 

My  first  impulse  was  to  rush  to  the  house  of  Mrs.  Mulcahy  and  ac- 
quaint her  with  my  error.  No,  it  was  too  late  ;  the  medicine  had  already 
been  given.  Perhaps  Patsy  was  dead.  I  dare  not  expose  my  mistake.  It 
was  the  only  hope  which  would  save  me  from  arrest,  and  perhaps  trial  for 
murder.  I  thought  I  should  go  mad.  God  only  knows  what  I  suffered  that 
night.  I  didn't  think  of  poor  little  Patsy  perhaps  rigid  in  death,  and  his 
grief-stricken  parent  at  his  side.  I  thought  only  of  myself.  I  saw  the  gib- 
bet which  would  usher  me  into  eternity.  I  thought  of  my  friends  and  of 
my  abbreviated  career,  and  then  1  thanked  sweet  oblivion,  that  1  thought 
no  more. 

The  next  morning  at  six  o'clock,  my  landlady  had  entered  my  room 
and  found  me  lying  unconscious  at  the  foot  of  my  bed.  She  had  summoned 
a  neighboring  practitioner,  who  had  quickly  restored  me  to  consciousness. 
The  happenings  of  yesterday  were  quickly  recalled.  Like  one  in  a  dream, 
1  dressed  hurriedly,  prepared  to  face  the  doom  which  awaited  me.  In  a 
mechanical  way,  1  reached  the  street,  and  the  fresh  morning  air  seemed  to 
revive  me.  I  walked  to  the  corner  of  the  street  where  Mrs.  Mulcahy  lived, 
and  then  my  courage  failed  me.  I  peered  around  the  corner  stealthily 
where  the  front  door  of  Mrs.  Mulcahy's  house  was  in  full  view.  I  looked 
for  the  crape,  the  sign  of  mourning,  and  saw  none.  My  courage  was  mo- 


MY  FIRST  PATIENT. 


mentarily  revived,  but  1  relapsed  again  into  my  state  of  utter  dejection. 
Perhaps  Mrs.  Mulcahy  was  too  poor  to  buy  crape.  Perhaps  the  undertaker 
had  not  yet  arrived.  I  called  a  newsboy,  and  giving  him  a  dime,  instructed 
him  to  enquire  if  any  one  had  died  at  Mrs.  Mulcahy's  house.  I  could  not 
await  the  return  of  the  messenger,  and  I  was  prepared  to  steal  away,  fear- 
ful of  learning  the  worst,  when  the  boy  returned  assuring  me  that  no  one 
had  died  at  Mrs.  Mulcahy's,  I  embraced  the  boy  in  the  rapture  of  my  exul- 
tation, and  left  him  indifferent  to  his  raillery,  that  "  I  must  have  wheels." 

"  Gawd  bless,  you,  my  darlint  docther,"  were  the  words  with  which 
Mrs.  Mulcahy  greeted  me.  "  You  have  brought  out  the  mather  which  was 
in  the  insides  of  Patsy.  That  cupping  wid  de  instrooment  done  him  a  power 
of  good." 

At  first  I  didn't  catch  the  meaning  of  Mrs.  Mulcahy's  remarks,  but  an 
examination  of  Patsy's  chest  made  the  entire  matter  clear.  She  had  mis- 
taken my  stethoscope  for  a  cupping  instrument.  I  had  pressed  the  stetho- 
scope so  firmly  on  Patsy's  chest,  that  1  had  unknowingly  opened  an  abscess 
which  had  been  present  beneath  the  muscles  of  the  chest,  and  had  escaped  the 
attention  of  the  other  medical  attendants  as  well  as  myself.  The  pus  from 
the  abscess  was  flowing  freely,  and  it  was  only  a  question  of  time  before 
Patsy  would  resume  his  functions  as  one  of  the  terrors  of  the  neighborhood. 

"  Did  you  give  Patsy  the  medicine  ?"  I  enquired  hesitatingly  of  Mrs. 
Mulcahy. 

"  No,"  replied  the  latter,  "the  druggist  wouldn't  lave  it,  because  I  had 
no  money  to  pay  for  it." 

1  felt  relieved.  Patsy  eventually  got  well  and  I  presented  my  bill. 
That  was  about  as  far  as  the  bill  got.  Its  presentation  brought  forth 
the  rejoinder  from  Mrs.  Mulcahy  that  she  had  heard  me  thank  a  gentleman 
but  a  few  weeks  ago  for  a  check  of  one  thousand  dollars,  and  surely  a  phy- 
sician with  that  amount  of  money  ought  not  to  trouble  a  poor  widow. 

Mrs.  Mulcahy  was  right.  God  is  the  paymaster  of  the  poor,  and  he 
must  love  them,  for  he  makes  so  many  of  them. 

My  appetite  was  as  keen  as  before  my  attendance  on  Patsy  Mulcahy, 
but  his  case  brought  me  reputation,  and  the  latter  brought  me  the  where- 
with to  purchase  the  necessities  of  life.  If  ever  I  am  rich  enough  to  own 
my  own  carriage  I  will  emulate  the  example  of  the  fashionable  doctors  and 
have  an  escutcheon  painted  on  it,  bearing  the  inscription, 

"Mistakes  Often  Lead  to  Fame." 


LEAF  II. 


A    SCIENTIFIC    COURTSHIP. 


MY  colleague,  Dr.  Edmond  Laidy,  had  attained  the  age  of  forty  years  and 
was  unmarried.     He  was  a  clever  heart  specialist  and  devoted  to  his 
profession;  he  gave  little  time  to  social  affairs,  but  when  he  did  go' into 
society  he  had  a  very  peculiar  habit  of  grasping  the  hands  of  his  lady  ac- 
quaintances as  if  he  were  feeling  their  pulse. 

His  friends  referred  this  peculiarity  to  abstraction,  and  they  would  fre- 
quently remark  that  Dr.  Laidy  was  so  engrossed  in  his  professional  habits 
that  he  could  not  forget  them  even  in  social  life. 

One  night  he  met  for  the  first  time,  Laura  Gage  the  only  daughter  of 
Ferdinand  Gage,  the  capitalist.  At  the  time  of  their  introduction,  it  was 
remarked  that  he  held  the  hand  of  Miss  Gage  longer  then  was  usual  with  him 
on  such  occasions. 

That  night  Dr    Laidy  dreamed  only  of  Laura  Gage. 

When  love  casts  her  weapon  at  such  a  victim  as  Dr.  Laidy  the  inflicted 
wound  is  deep  and  dangerous.  His  was  not  the  ephemeral  love  of  youth 
which  explodes  like  a  fire  cracker,  and  leaves  nought  else  but  desolation  in 
its  wake,  to  taunt  one  forever  for  the  mere  folly  of  an  emotion.  It  was  not 
long  before  Dr.  Laidy  determined  to  make  an  avowal  of  love  to  Miss  Gage. 

On  the  eventful  evening  he  said  to  the  lady,  "I  am  a  man  of  few  words, 
but  I  will  succinctly  give  you  the  reason  of  my  visit  this  evening.  Hove  you 
for  many  reasons,  but  one  at  my  time  of  life  must  temper  his  emotions  with 
discretion;  I  therefore  propose  that  our  engagement  will  be  a  probationary 
one;  that  if,  at  the  end  of  two  weeks  we  see  no  reason  to  change  our  minds, 
—you  will  become  Mrs.  Edmond  Laidy,  and  I,  well — will  become  a  bene- 
dict." 

"You  have  not  asked  me  whether  I  love  you,  Dr.  Laidy?"  responded 
Miss  Gage. 

"That  was  entirely  unnecessary,  Laura;  emotions  speak  louder  than 
words,  and  I  knew  you  loved  me  the  very  first  time  we  met.  Am  I  not  cor- 
rect in  my  judgment?"  continued  the  doctor. 

"You  are  indeed  right,  Edmond,  I  love  you  and  will  agree  to  your  pro- 
bationary engagement.  But  tell  me,  how  did  you  make  the  discovery  that 
I  loved  you?" 

"I  have  prepared  myself  for  your  interrogation,  dearest  Laura, "said  Dr. 
Laidy.  "See,"  and  he  removed  from  his  pocket  an.  illustration  of  the  heart 
showing  its  nerve  connections. 


A  SCIENTIFIC  COURTSHIP, 


"The  ancients  were  correct  in  fixing  the  abode  of  love  in  the  heart, 
which  is  responsive  to  all  emotions,  notably  to  that  of  love.  There  is  a  pe- 
culiar rhythm  which  the  heart  adopts  when  love  is  the  emotion  which  sways 
it.  This  rhythmic  movement  is  transmitted  to  the  pulse,  and  the  skilled 
physician  interprets  the  sensation  by  the  tactile  sense." 

"People  have  remarked  what  they  regarded  as  a  peculiarity  of  mine,— 
that  of  grasping  the  hand  of  a  lady  as  if  I  were  feeling  her  pulse.  This  was 
not  abstraction,  but  deliberate  intention  on  my  part;  it  was  always  my  de- 
sire to  marry,  but  until  I  could  find  some  one  in  whom  I  could  awaken  the 
love  emotion  I  would  not  precipitate  myself  into  marriage.  Need  I  say  more? 
Laura, when  I  first  met  you,  your  pulse  eloquently  revealed  your  secret,  and 
now  that  the  compact  is  made,  I  will  say  good  night,  as  duty  calls  me  forth 
to  visit  little  Johnny  Watts, who  is  suffering  from  a  bad  attack  of  small  pox. 
So  good-night,  dearest — I  will  not  kiss  you — no,  I  cannot  perform  that  func- 
tion until' to-morrow  night,  when  I  will  send  you  my  engagement  present, 
which  will  be  a  choice  bottle  of  antiseptic  mouth  wash;  then  dearest, we  will 
revel  in  a  kiss,  and  bid  defiance  to  the  ubiquitous  microbe." 

The  secret  motive  of  Dr.  Laidy  in  making  his  engagement  to  Miss 
Gage  one  of  probation  was  directed  by  discretion.  He  had  observed  in  his 
practice  that  one  of  the  most  potent  factors  of  unhappiness  among  married 
people  was  sickness.  Unmarried  people  enter  the  holy  bonds  of  matrimony 
without  considering  the  question  of  health,  and  he  always  feared  making  an 
alliance  with  some  woman  who  might  prove  herself  physicially  and  mentally 
incompetent. 

The  physician  of  the  Gage  family  was  Dr.  Preston,  an  enemy  of  Dr. 
Laidy.  To  apply  to  him  for  information  relative  to  the  health  of  Miss  Gage 
was  entirely  out  of  the  question.  He  could  not  ask  Miss  Gage  to  submit 
herself  to  him  for  examination  of  her  heart  and  lungs.  That  is  why  he  ad- 
vised the  engagement  on  probation,  as  a  rational  means  of  learning  some- 
thing about  her  physical  condition.  He  also  knew  that  he  must  not  betray 
the  object  of  his  investigations. 

When  Dr.  Laidy  next  visited  his  betrothed,  he  noticed  with  dismay  that 
she  did  not  receive  him  in  evening  dress,  as  he  wished  that  night  to  investi- 
gate her  respirations  as  an  index  to  the  condition  of  her  lungs. 

"Don't  you  know,  Laura,"  he  remarked,  "that  a  decollete  dress  would 
become  you  very  well." 

"If  1  do  not  forget,"  she  responded,  "only  yesterday  you  admired  me 
because  1  did  not  wear  a  decollete  dress." 

"Yes,  I  remember1  1  did  say  that,"  he  answered,  "but  then  you  were 
not  betrothed  to  me.  Now  I  am  concerned  about  your  future  health. 
Woman,  you  will  pardon  my  professional  excursion,  breathes  with  the  upper 
portion  of  her  chest,  and  a  decollete  dress  leaves  that  portion  of  the  thorax 
unincumbered,  and  therefore  contributes  towards  proper  inflation  of  the 
lungs." 

"To-morrow  I  will  be  prepared  to  follow  your  sanitary  advice," 
she  said,  thanking  Dr.  Laidy  at  the  same  time  for  the  interest  which  he  took 
in  her  well  being. 


10  A  SCIENTIFIC  COURTSHIP. 


The  rest  of  the  evening  was  spent  in  discussing  the  biology  of  the 
cladothrix  dichothoma.  After  imparting  a  sterile  kiss  on  the  antiseptic  lips 
of  Laura  he  returned  to  his  home. 

The  next  evening  Laura  Gage  greeted  the  doctor  in  decollete  costume. 
The  greeting  over,  the  physician  removed  his  watch,  and  gazing  at  the 
anatomically  correct  chest  of  his  betrothed  began  to  count  her  respirations. 
Laura  regarded  his  actions  as  peculiar,  and  she  ventured  to  enquire  what 
he  was  doing  ? 

"Nothing,  my  dear,  only  contemplating  the  grandeur  of  nature,"  the 
abstracted  doctor  replied. 

For  one  hour  he  kept  track  of  her  respirations,  and  the  movements  of 
her  chest ;  executing  his  observations  under  various  conditions.  On  one 
pretext  or  another  he  made  her  stand,  then  walk  rapidly  around  the  room 
until  she  really  believed  that  her  future  life  was  to  be  devoted  to  the  exper- 
imental investigations  of  Dr.  Laidy. 

She  was  glad  when  his  visit  was  at  an  end,  while  he  secretly  congratu- 
lated himself  that  Laura  Gage  had  perfect  lungs.  It  remained" for  him  to 
investigate  her  heart.  To  do  so  it  seemed  necessary  for  him  to  bring  a 
stethoscope— this  was  impossible.  He  must  rely  solely  on  his  unaided  ear. 
This  was  unscientific,  he  argued,  for  some  slight  murmur  of  the  heart  might 
be  present  and  escape  detection. 

For  this  reason  he  spent  the  rest  of  the  night  in  grave  anxiety,  fearing 
that  an  examination  without  a  stethoscope  would  not  be  crucial.  The  fol- 
lowing evening  he  was  less  formal  in  his  greeting.  A  little  more  cordiality 
would  not  compromise  him,  for  did  he  not  find  that  Laura's  lungs  were  in 
sound  condition? 

Even  Laura  was  surprised  at  his  cordiality,  and  this  feeling  was  accen- 
tuated when  he  encircled  her  waist  with  his  arm,  and  told  her  to  rest  her 
head  on  his  shoulder  and  breathe  gently. 

Placing  his  ear  to  the  region  of  her  heart  he  was  lost  in  abstraction. 

"  Edmond,  dear,"  she  murmured,  "  is  this  not  bliss  ?" 

She  repeated  the  utterance,  but  Dr.  Laidy  was  not  aware  that  she 
spoke,  and  then  in  an  abstracted  way  he  said  : 

"  Diastolic  and  systolic  tones  clear,  no  ACCENTUATION,  and  rhythm 
perfect/' 

"Are  you  dreaming,  Edmond  ?"  she  said,  as  he  unconsciously  delivered 
himself  of  this  technical  harangue. 

"  Dreaming,  dearest,  why  no,  why  do  you  ask?" 

"  Because,"  she  answered,  "  you  seem  to  forget  me  in  your  art ;  will 
it  always  be  thus,  Edmond  ?" 

"  No,"  answered  the  doctor,  now  fully  aroused  from  his  soliloquy. 
"  Never  again  will  I  lose  myself  in  your  presence  in  the  intricacies  of  my 
art." 

He  felt  that  he  could  say  this  much,  as  he  was  satisfied  that  the  chest 
organs  of  Laura  were  in  sound  condition. 

That  evening  Dr.  Laidy  decided  that  on  the  following  day  he  would 
make  his  betrothal  final.  Never  stake  anything  on  the  status  of  the  mind  ; 
its  vagaries  are  manifold,  incessant  and  vacillating.  One  moment  it  bears  us 


A  SCIENTIFIC  COURTSHIP.  1 1 


in  its  migrations  to  the  dizzy  altitudes  of  supreme  happiness,  only  to  dash 
us  in  the  next  minute  to  the  deep  abyss  of  despair. 

On  the  evening  of  his  return  to  his  home  after  visiting  Laura  he  be- 
came interested  in  an  article  from  the  pen  of  a  German  investigator. 

The  contribution  was  entitled  "  How  to  Prognosticate  Longevity  by  a 
Microscopical  Examination  of  the  Blood." 

According  to  the  calculations  of  this  investigator,  if  a  certain  reagent 
were  added  to  a  drop  of  blood  under  the  microscope  a  depression  would  form 
on  the  surface  of  the  red  blood  corpuscles,  and  that  the  greater  number  of 
depressions  thus  developed,  the  longer  would  be  the  life  of  the  individual 
from  whom  the  blood  was  removed.  Thus  if  five  depressions  developed  the 
person  would  live  five  years  ;  if  three,  three  years ;  two,  two  years  ;  and 
if  only  one  depression  were  present  the  death  of  the  person  could  positively 
be  predicted  within  one  year. 

Five  hundred  cases  were  cited  in  support  of  the  theory.  After  reading 
the  article,  Dr.  Laidy  sought  to  dismiss  the  subject  from  his  mind  ;  try  as 
he  would,  the  idea  could  not  be  conquered.  It  recurred  to  him  constantly 
that  an  examination  of  Laura's  blood  would  positively  establish  the  duration 
of  her  life.  There  was  something  in  the  German  theory  that  was  so  posi- 
tive. An  ordinary  examination  of  an  individual  might  inform  you  whether 
the  organs  were  healthy,  but  never  before  had  science  so  advanced  that 
you  could  tell  how  long  a  person  would  live. 

Physicians  are  the  most  credulous  beings  alive,  they  will  allow  almost 
anything  to  reach  their  mentality.  If  a  patient  were  to  secretly  indulge  in 
the  use  of  a  patent  medicine  he  never  could  expect  pardon  for  his  insuffer- 
able stupidity  from  his  medical  adviser ;  yet  the  very  adviser  swallows 
with  alacrity  all  the  stuff  that  is  parcelled  out  to  him  by  contributors  to 
medical  journals. 

Had  Dr.  Laidy  only  exercised  the  circumspection  employed  by  the 
average  man,  not  the  physician,  he  would  have  hesitated  before  accepting 
as  truths  the  observations  of  the  German  scientist ;  he  would  at  least  have 
waited  for  confirmation  of  the  investigations  by  others. 

When  Dr.  Laidy  visited  Laura  the  next  time  he  brought  his  micro- 
scope. When  they  were  alone  he  anxiously  enquired  whether  she  would 
like  to  see  a  drop  of  her  blood  under  the  microscope  ? 

"  How  thoughtful  of  you,  Edmond,  I  shall  be  delighted  to  accompany 
you  in  this  excursion  to  the  realms  of  infinitesimal  ;  shall  you  want  the 
blood  from  my  fingers  ?" 

"  Thank  you,"  he  answered,  and  quickly  thrust  a  sterilized  pin  into 
her  digit ;  he  allowed  a  drop  of  the  precious  fluid  to  fall  on  a  glass,  and 
after  adding  a  drop  of  reagent  to  the  blood  he  quickly  placed  it  under  the 
microscope,  where  he  sat  in  contemplation  for  a  few  minutes. 

"Aren't  you  well,  Edmond?"  Laura  anxiously  enquired,  as  she  ob- 
served the  pallor  of  his  face,  for  at  that  moment  he  had  discovered  only  one 
depression  on  the  surface  of  the  red-blood  corpuscles,  and  Laura  was 
doomed  to  die  within  the  year. 

With  deep  sorrow  and  anxiety  depicted  on  his  countenance,  he  told 
Miss  Gage  "that  he  regretted  that  their  engagement  must  be  severed." 


12  A  SCIENTIFIC  COURTSHIP. 


He  would  not  tell  why,  but  begged  her  to  remember,  "that  the  parting  was 
to  him  a  most  painful  one." 

Without  a  further  word  of  explanation  he  gathered  his  microscopical 
appurtenances  and  left  the  house. 

Dr.  Laidy  made  anxious  inquiries  daily  about  the  condition  of  Laura's 
health.  From  all  sources  he  learned  that  she  was  in  perfect  health  ;  not- 
withstanding these  reports  he  was  observed  to  shake  his  head  ominously, 
as  if  to  say  the  Damocletian  sword  might  fall  at  any  time. 

A  few  months  later,  Laura's  engagement  to  John  Wilson,  the  attorney, 
was  announced.  Dr.  Laidy  deplored  the  fate  of  poor  Wilson.  If  he  could 
only  communicate  his  discovery,  and  advise  him  of  the  calamity  that  was 
in  store  for  him,  he  would  willingly  do  so,  but  he  was  confronted  with  the 
fact  that  the  betrayal  of  his  secret  meant  a  hideous  disclosure  of  the  mean 
advantage  which  he  had  taken  of  Laura  under  the  guise  of  friendship. 

Thus  months  rolled  by  and  still  Laura  lived,  to  the  chagrin  and  discom- 
fiture of  Dr.  Laidy.  "  Why  should  she  live?"  soliloquized  Dr.  Laidy,  in  his 
quieter  moments.  He  felt  aggrieved;  he  felt  as  many  other  physicians  feel 
when  their  prognostications  are  not  verified.  It  was  not  they,  but  their  art 
which  had  erred. 

Physicians  forget  the  deficiencies  and  limitations  of  their  art,  and  they 
regard  in  consequence  its  faults  as  their  own. 

Two  years  after  the  happy  marriage  of  Laura  Gage,  the  latter  called  at 
the  office  of  Dr.  Laidy;  she  briefly  expressed  the  object  of  her  visit, — it  was 
to  offer  some  of  her  blood  for  a  poor  woman — one  of  Dr.  Laidy's  patients, 
who  had  met  with  a  serious  accident.  She  had  heard  that  transfusion  would 
be  practiced,  for  which  the  blood  of  some  healthy  person  was  sought.  She 
volunteered  the  donation.  Dr.  Laidy  cheerfully  accepted  the  offer,  provided 
the  blood  would  respond  to  a  microscopical  examination. 

It  did,  most  thoroughly,  and  to  Dr.  Laidy's  consternation  there  were  at 
least  a  hundred  depressions  on  each  red-blood  corpuscle. 

That  night  the  following  missive  was  addressed  to  Dr.  Carl  Ruprecht, 
author  of  the  article,  "How  to  Prognosticate  Longevity  by  a  Microscopical 
Examination  of  the  Blood." 

"My  Teutonic  and  Beer  Loving  Colleague:  If  you  again  suffer  from 
cacoethes  scribendi,  please  take  a  magnanimous  dose  of  strychnine,  and  be  sure 
to  avoid  the  subsequent  use  of  antidotes. 

"  Your  contribution  was  a  bloody  prevarication,  conceived  by  an  astig- 
matic intellect.  Your  article  amply  illustrated  the  time-worn  apothegm,  'he 
lies  like  a  physician.'  Let  us  take  devious  routes  throughout  life,  so  I  may 
not  add  murder  to  the  virtues  of  Dr.  Edmond  Laidy." 


LEAF  III. 


"A    MODERN    AESCULAPIUS." 


TNGLEBY  DRAKE  and  1  were  companions  in  our  early  youth.  The  fates  had 

[  decreed  that  Ingleby  was  to  become  a  physician.   When  he  came  to  bid 

farwell  to  this  earth,  he  summoned  me  to  his  side  and  bade  me  to  recount 

to  the  world  the  vicissitudes  of  his  career,  lest  other  misguided  creatures 

seduced  by  the  specious  glamor  of  hope  and  promise  should  be  inveigled  into 

a  hopeless  entanglement  of  deception  and  ignominy. 

Thus  have  I  become  his  biographer.  Poor  Ingleby,  you  deserved  a 
better  fate.  Heredity  and  fortuitism  conspired  to  make  you  a  victim  of  their 
preversity. 

Ingleby  Drake  was  the  eldest  of  seven  children.  His  parents  resided  in 
one  of  the  rural  districts  of  Southern  California.  His  father  was  a  poor, 
though  industrious  farmer,  whose  tireless  energy  contributed  nought  else 
to  his  family  but  the  actual  necessities  cf  life.  His  mother  contributed  her 
moiety  to  the  family  possessions, which  was  made  up  of  love  for  her  husband 
and  devotion  to  her  children.  Her  life  was  a  beautiful  example  of  immola- 
tion on  the  altar  of  devotion.  She  fittingly  illustrated  the  supremacy  of 
altruism  over  egoism.  Such  women  are  the  real  heroes  of  epics.  I  can  re- 
call this  noble  woman  in  the  autumn  of  her  life  harnessed  to  the  cares  of  a 
growing  family,  scintillating  like  a  ray  of  sunshine  in  the  midst  of  her  trials 
and  tribulations.  Ingleby  was  indeed  opulent  in  the  possession  of  such  a 
mother.  Education  he  had  none.  Like  an  intelligent  animal,  he  was 
trained  to  perform  a  few  primitive  acts.  His  mental  automatism  enabled  him 
to  read  with  difficulty,  to  spell  inaccurately,  and  to  figure  grotesquely,  yet, 
withal,  ingenuous  Ingleby  was  contented.  His  tardy  cerebration  fortified 
him  against  ambition  and  he  knew  nought  of  the  world,  save  that  which 
was  revealed  to  him  in  his  sylvan  retreat  by  communion  with  his  virgin 
being. 

Under  the  guidance  of  intuition,  he  insulted  neither  his  brain  nor  his 
stomach,  thus  anxiety  he  had  none,  but  of  sleep  and  good  digestion,  a  plen- 
itude. Happy  intuition !  how  few  of  us  in  this  age  of  reason  are  endowed 
with  the  priceless  possessions  of  Ingleby  ? 

The  greatest  hardship  of  civilization  is  to  be  civilized.  The  improved 
condition  of  man  known  as  civilization  is  a  terrible  conflict  between  reason 
and  intuition,  with  no  legitimate  reason  for  the  struggle. 


14  A    MODERN    AESCULAPIUS, 

Ingleby  was  a  perfect  specimen  of  physical  strength.  He  was  not  such 
a  type  as  would  have  inspired  a  Phidias  or  Praxiteles.  He  was  remote  from 
beauty.  He  was  and  looked  the  conventional  country  lad,  destined  for  no 
other  object  in  life  than  to  develop  the  resources  of  the  soil.  Remove  him 
from  his  rural  environment  and  he  would  become  a  perverse  creature, 
swayed  by  the  capriciousness  of  his  fancy  and  the  importunities  of  an  effete 
civilization.  This  was  to  be  the  fate  of  Ingleby.  The  latter  had  an  acquaint- 
ance, Nicholas  Hunt  by  name,  who  was  somewhat  older  than  Ingleby. 

Nicholas  Hunt  was  formerly  a  herdsman  by  occupation,  but  by  dint  of 
rigid  economy,  coupled  with  ambition,  he  was  enabled  to  take  a  course  of  lec- 
tures in  a  medical  college  in  one  of  the  Eastern  States.  Thanks  to  the  lati- 
tudinous  conscience  of  the  medical  faculty,  abetted  by  the  fees  of  Nicholas, 
the  latter  was  easily  shifted  into  the  hallowed  ranks  of  the  medical  profes- 
sion. Nicholas  Hunt,  the  quondam  sheep  herder,  was  now  in  the  possess- 
ion of  a  sheep-skin,  and  blessed  with  all  the  deficiencies  of  a  thorough  med- 
ical education.  "  The  Rapid  Transit  College,"  from  which  Nicholas  was 
graduated,  licensed  him  to  practice  medicine.  He  accepted  the  chair  of 
"  Commercial  Medicine  "  in  his  Alma  Mater,  and  complimentary  to  his  pre- 
vious occupation  was  made  "  Curator  of  Sheep-skins."  The  professorship 
of  commercial  medicine  was  by  no  means  a  sinecure.  On  the  contrary,  it 
meant,  that  the  occupant  of  the  chairj  to  use  an  emphatic  phrase  of  an  eru- 
dite member  of  the  faculty,  "Had  to  get  out  and  hustle."  Prof.  Hunt 
looked  about  him  for  recruits.  He  bethought  himself  of  the  companion  of 
his  youth,  simple  Ingleby,  in  his  home  in  Southern  California. 

He  sent  Ingleby  the  following  letter,  the  original  of  which  may  be 
found  in  the  archives  of  "  The  Smithsonian  Institution  :" 

"  SQUASHVILLE,  Nov.  22,  1892. 
My  Deer  ingleby  : 

i  know  you  dont  remember  Me  in  my  Disguise  as  Dr.  Nicholas  Hunt, 
i,  yes  i,  limpy  nick,  who  used  to  tend  sheep  with  You.  i  amm  professor  of 
cummercial  medisin  in  the  rapid  Transit  Medical  College,  dement  Depart- 
ment of  the  squashville  university.  I  now  wear  a  plug  hat,  glasses,  broade 
clothe  suite,  a  cleane  shirte  and  write  perskripsions  in  Latin.  My  success 
is  great.  Yesterday,  i  preeskribed  4  45  patients  and  3  are  still  alive  2  day. 
how  is  that  4  sucksess  ?  Well  to  get  down  to  bisness  as  we  saye  inn  the 
classiks.  We  Kan  make  a  Doktor  of  U.  Think  of  it,  Ingleby  Drake,  M. 
D.  physishian  &  Surgeon,  how  dose  that  strike  U  ?  say  it  Aloud,  ingleby 
drake,  M.  D.  physishian  &  Surgeon.  Aint  that  fine?  Don't  it  sound 
Bully  ?  well,  up  can  become  a  reale  live  Doktor,  and  awl  u  need  is  $100. 
Think  of  it,  ingleby  u  will  B.  allowed  by  Lawe  2  Handle  the  Lives  of  peo- 
ple without  any  questions  askede  4  the  unpretenthouse  some  of  $100. 
Wats  the  goode  of  Killing  yourself  with  Hard  work  for  1$  a  day,  wen  u 
Kan  Kill  some  one  else  and  get  payed  fur  It  ?  in  a  few  years,  you  wille  B 
riche  with  paytients  2  Burn,  if  they  Kare  about  Bing  Kremated.  just  im- 
agine ingleby  your  walking  alonge  the  street  in  a  plug  hat  &  a  cleane 
shirte  &  Bowing  casual  like  2  youre  acquaintences.  i  heare  u  say  2 
yourself  i  aint  got  any  edicashin.  i  cant  be  a  doktor.  thats  wear  you  waye 


A    MODERN    AESCULAPIUS.  1 5 

off.  people  may  B  very  Wise,  wen  it  comes  to  saving  money  But  wen  they 
get  sick,  there  Fools,  people  are  peculiar,  they  would  rather  riske  there 
Lives  than  their  $s.  Wen  they  get  sick  they  want  a  Man  withe  sum  Miss 
terry  stuck  2  him.  Y  in  your  Kase,  U  would  have  as  we  say  in  the 
classiks,  a  Post-mortem  cinch,  or  as  you  say,  a  dead  cinch.  Because  they 
wood  say,  you  was  a  natural  borne  physishian  wile  some  other  Phellow  who 
had  to  study  like  thunder,  they  wood  saye  he  had  2  study  bekause  he 
didn't  Know  nuthing  about  medicine,  ingleby  dont  have  2  study,  hees  a 
natural  borne  physishian.  Btween  Me  &  u,  ingleby,  poets  are  borne  not 
maid  But  the  facultie  of  the  rapid  Transit  medical  College  is  proude  of  the 
distinction  thatt  at  thaire  intitushion,  physishians  are  maide  &  not  borne. 
Answer  2  me  at  wunce. 

&  remember  your  distinguished  friend 

DR.  NICHOLAS  HUNT,  M.  D. 

Physcian,  Surgeon  &  a  lot  of  other  things  which  i  Kant  right  downe 
Because  i  havent  any  more  payper." 

After  the  receipt  of  Prof.  Hunt's  letter,  Ingleby  with  the  aid  of  the 
village  school-master  and  a  dictionary,  was  able  to  read  it.  The 
letter  left  Ingleby  no  opportunity  to  waver  in  his  purpose.  He  would  be- 
come a  physician.  He  would  help  the  poor  and  afflicted.  If  his  dear  mother 
needed  his  services,  or  his  brother  Ben,  how  willingly  would  he  serve 
them.  He  was  no  longer  the  unambitious,  ingenuous  youth  of  the  country 
village. 

What  his  intelligence  lacked,  his  imagination  supplied.  He  already 
saw  his  name  emblazoned  on  the  escutcheon  of  medical  science.  He  never 
tired  of  gazing  in  mute  admiration  at  a  sjgn  which  the  village  painter  had 
facetiously  painted  : 

INGLEBY     DRAKE,    M.    D., 
PHYSICIAN  &  SURGEON. 

Ingleby's  family  shared  his  enthusiasm.  When  Ingleby  retired  at 
night  he  gave  the  sign  a  conspicuous  place  in  his  bed-chamber.  When  he 
awoke,  it  was  the  first  thing  which  attracted  his  attention.  That  sign  was 
his  fetich.  It  owned  him  body  and  soul.  The  yokels  got  to  calling  him 
Doc,  until  all  that  remained  between  Ingleby  and  the  realization  of  his 
dreams  was  about  three  hundred  dollars,  the  sum  required  for  tuition  fee, 
transportation  and  living  expenses  while  attending  the  college  at  Squash- 
ville.  Mr.  Drake,  the  father  of  Ingleby,  wrote  to  an  eminent  surgeon  in 
San  Francisco,  soliciting  an  opinion  on  the  qualifications  of  his  son  to  be- 
come a  practitioner  of  medicine.  This  eminent  surgeon  had  some  years 
before,  performed  gratuitously  a  surgical  operation  on  Mrs.  Drake,  since 
which  time  her  husband  considered  the  surgeon  to  be  under  the  deepest 
obligations  to  him.  In  a  week  Mr.  Drake  received  the  following  reply  : 


16  A  MODERN  AESCULAPIUS. 

SAN  FRANCISCO,  January  10,  1893. 
MR.  JONATHAN  DRAKE  : 

*Dear  Sir: — I  am  in  receipt  of  your  communication  respecting  the 
advisability  of  sending  your  son,  Ingleby,  to  a  medical  college.  Your  son 
is  no  more  fitted  to  practice  medicine  than  a  large  number  of  physicians* 
The  degree  M.  D.,  does  not  confer  a  knowledge  of  medicine  on  the  recipi- 
ent ;  it  merely  entitles  him  to  practice  the  art.  You  say,  "  he  may  ornament 
medical  science."  In  this,  sir,  you  are  mistaken,  it  will  be  the  science 
which  will  endeavor  to  ornament  him.  Unfortunately,  medical  art  has 
nearly  exhausted  its  embellishments  on  such  crude  recruits  like  your  son.  If 
my  advice  be  heeded,  let  Ingleby  remain  at  home  in  the  sweet  innocence  of 
his  environment.  A  little  knowledge  is  a  dangerous  thing,  and  this  is 
especially  so  in  relation  to  medical  knowledge.  A  little  knowledge  of  med- 
icine is  a  sharp-edged  tool,  and  must  be  handled  with  infinite  circumspec- 
tion. Hoping,  sir,  you  will  respect  my  disinterested  advice,  I  subscribe 
myself  Very  sincerely, 

MUNFREY  WlNN. 

"  The  idea,"  remarked  Mr.  Jonathan  Drake,  after  the  perusal  of  Dr. 
Winn's  letter,  "  Why,  Dr.  Winn  is  an  ingrate  to  think  that  he  can  monop- 
olize the  practice  of  medicine  ;  why  he's  jealous  of  my  noble  son,  Ingleby, 
who  is  a  born  physician." 

These  remarks  addressed  to  farmer  Higgins,  a  neighbor,  met  with  his 
concurrence,  and  it  was  forthwith  decided  that  Mr,  Drake  should  mortgage 
his  farm  for  three  hundred  dollars,  the  amount  necessary  to  enable  Ingleby 
to  complete  his  medical  education.  Mr.  Drake  saw  in  Ingleby  what  many 
another  fond  parent  saw  in  a  child.  He  saw  subjectively.  He  saw  not  the 
actual  son,  but  the  vision  of  that  son  as  he  would  like  to  see  him,  and  he 
eventually  saw  that  son  in  no  other  light.  Ingleby  Drake  was  destined  to 
study  medicine,  and  he  was  truly  deserving  of  God's  blessing — for  he  surely 
needed  it. 


CHAPTER  II. 

1  was  walking  along  one  of  the  side  streets  of  the  city  of  C.,  about  one 
year  after  bidding  good-bye  to  Ingleby  Drake  on  his  departure  for  "  The 
Rapid  Transit  Medical  College,"  when  my  attention  was  directed  to  a  sign 
of  gigantic  proportions,  bearing  the  following  inscription  : 

Dr.  Nicholas  Hunt,  M.  D., 
Physician  and  Surgeon, 

Specialist  for  Diseases  of  the  Nose,  Throat,  Eye,  Ear,  Mouth,  Lungs,  Gul- 
let, Teeth,  Ligaments,  Eye-Lashes,  Nerves  and  all  other  Diseases.  Special 
attention  paid  to  acute  and  chronic  diseases,  especially  to  wind-colic.  Office 
Hours— All  the  time.  Please  ring  the  Bell  and  enter  without  Knocking. 


A    MODERN   /ESCULAPIUS. 


My  first  impulse  was  to  visit  Nicholas  and  to  congratulate  him  on  his 
accession  to  the  noble  art  about  which  Hippocrates  and  the  learned  Celsus 
loved  to  write.  I  hastily  ascended  the  interminable  stairs  leading  to  his 
office,  and  entered  a  small  reception  room.  Like  the  average  physician's 
waiting-room,  it  defied  the  law  pertaining  to  the  cubic  air  ordinance.  It 
contained  a  couple  of  rickety  chairs  and  a  dilapidated  table,  on  which  rested 
with  the  tranquillity  of  old  age,  three  ancient  magazines  and  a  bottle  of  dirty 
alcohol,  in  which  was  immersed  what  looked  like  a  tumor.  The  general 
appearance  of  the  room  was  filthy  in  the  extreme.  1  did  not  wait  very  long, 
for  another  door  was  immediately  opened,  and  there  appeared  before  me 
Dr.  Ingleby  Drake. 

Dr.  Drake's  greeting  was  very  effusive.  He  asked  me  to  be  seated, 
and  directed  me  to  a  chair  which  would  have  succumbed  to  a  burden  less 
cumbersome  than  mine.  He  observed  my  reluctance  to  be  seated,  and 
jocularly  remarked,  that  the  chair  only  had  three  legs,  one  of  which  he  had 
already  successfully  amputated  as  a  prelude  to  his  first  operation.  Poor 
Ingleby  looked  the  picture  of  despair.  His  bloodless  lips  and  emaciated 
form  informed  me  more  eloquently  than  words,  that  genteel  starvation  had 
already  claimed  him  for  a  victim.  He  bemoaned  the  sad  fate  which  was  in 
store  for  him.  He  saw  in  death  the  only  relief  for  his  sufferings.  On  that 
very  day  he  saw  some  prospects  of  a  temporary  release  from  starvation.  A 
child  in  the  neighborhood  had  broken  its  arm,  and  Ingleby  was  hastily 
summoned  to  the  case.  While  Ingleby  was  engaged  in  bandaging  the 
broken  extremity,  Dr.  Quickdeath  had  entered  the  room.  Dr.  Quickdeath 
was  formerly  Professor  of  Medical  Ethics  in  the  school  from  which  Ingleby 
had  graduated,  and  of  course  he  got  the  case.  A  shrug  of  the  shoulder  and 
an  evanescent  reference  to  youth  and  inexperience  carried  conviction  to  the 
anxious  parents,  and  Dr.  Drake  was  once  again  relegated  to  the  waiting- 
list. 

While  we  were  engaged  in  discussing  the  future,  the  door  leading  to 
the  waiting-room  was  suddenly  opened,  and  a  tall  individual  entered.  He 
wore  a  long,  scraggy  beard,  a  shiny  broad-cloth  suit,  a  dirty  shirt,  and  car- 
ried in  his  hand  a  dilapidated  pair  of  gloves.  Dr.  Drake  introduced  this 
gentleman  as  his  distinguished  colleague,  Professor  Nicholas  Hunt,  and 
after  inviting  his  eminent  confrere  to  stand,  there  being  no  other  unoccu- 
pied chair  in  the  room,  he  appealed  to  Professor  Hunt  to  aid  him  in  his  dif- 
ficulty. "  That  just  like  you,  Ingleby,  always  wanting  help." 

"  Didn't  I  get  you  your  degree,  Ingleby,"  said  Prof.  Hunt.  "  The  fact  is, 
Ingleby,  I  am  too  busy.  I've  had  three  confinements  today,  a  case  of 
measles  and  a  couple  of  broken  legs,  and  I  thought  I  would  just  run  in  and 
tell  you  how  busy  I  am." 

"  Does  your  success  bring  me  food/'  replied  Ingleby. 

"  Now,  there  you  go  again,"  answered  the  loquacious  Prof.  Hunt  ; 
"  everything  comes  to  him  who  waits.  Didn't  I  wait  ?  Didn't  I  suffer 
what  you  now  suffer,  until  fortune  smiled  on  me.  Coffee  and  sinkers  was 
good  enough  for  me  in  my  early  struggles,  bat  now  its  beefsteak,  if  I  want 
it,  three  times  a  day.  All  you  want  to  do,"  and  he  cast  a  significant 
wink  at  me,  "  is  to  become  a  professional  abortionist/' 


l8  A    MODERN   /ESCULAPIUS. 

"  Become  a  professional  abortionist;  why,  what  is  that  ?"  inquired  the 
unsuspecting  Ingleby. 

"  Why,  Ingy,  you're  not  up  to  the  times;  its  practicing  feticide,  that's 
what  it  is,"  replied  Prof.  Hunt,  sententiously. 

"  Practice  feticide,"  1  cried  in  alarm.  "  Is  it  possible,  that  before  me, 
;an  utter  stranger,  you  exercise  no  scruples  in  referring  to  your  nefarious 
practice  ?  Is  it  possible,  1  continued,  that  you  would  inveigle  my  simple 
friend,  Dr.  Drake,  into  committing  murder  for  the  sake  of  mere  suste- 
nance." 

"Comedown  from  your  trapeze,"  said  the  distinguished  member  of 
the  medical  profession,  "and  let  me  tell  you,  sir,  that  in  your  daily  newspa- 
pers, your  boasted  arbiters  of  morality,  the  advertisments  of  the  profes- 
sional abortionist  are  as  common  as  those  of  any  other  calling.  These 
advertisements,"  he  continued,  "say  openly  what  they  mean.  They  are 
read  in  your  homes  by  your  wives  and  children." 

I  answered  in  reply,  that  Prof.  Hunt  misrepresented  the  truth  ;  that 
the  Public  Moralist  and  the  ^Daily  Hypocrite,  the  two  leading  dailies  of  the 
city,  instead  of  yielding  their  columns  to  such  immoral  advertisements, 
were  really  the  very  instruments  which  sought  to  inhibit  a  vice  which  was 
criminal,  and  repugnant  to  the  moral  sentiment  of  society.  1  advanced  as 
an  instance,  the  example  of  the  two  great  dailies  expending  thousands  of 
dollars  to  bring  to  justice  a  professional  abortionist,  who  had  caused  the 
death  of  a  poor  young  girl. 

"  Seeing  is  believing,"  said  Prof.  Hunt,  as  he  removed  from  the  capa- 
cious pocket  of  his  coat  a  copy  of  The  Public  {Moralist.  "  Here  are  adver- 
tisements which  don't  lie,"  and  he  pointed  significantly  to  the  following 
advertisements  extracted  -verbatim  et  literatim  from  the  advertising  columns 
of  the  Public  Moralist : 

A  BLESSING  to  ladies— Instant  relief  for 
monthly  irregularities  (from  whatever 
cause)  by  the  most  experienced  ladies' 
pnysician,  who  restores  all  cases  at  once 
by  an  improved  method,  superior  to  oth- 
ers; ladies  will  save  time  and  money;  be 
assured  of  honest  treatment  by  consult- 
ing the  doctors  before  consulting  else- 
where; home  in  confinement;  treatment 
warranted;  advice  free. 

A  SUGGESTION— Ladies  in  trouble,  com- 
municate with  Dr.  . 


ALL  CASES  of  monthly  irregularities, 
from  whatever  cause,  restored  at  once; 
safe  and  sure;  travelers  helped  without 
delay;  refined  home  in  confinement;  my 
celebrated  remedies  for  monthly  suppres- 
sion never  fail;  for  guaranteed  relief 
consult  the  doctor  before  going  else- 
where; advice  free;  French  sure  pills,  $1. 
Mrs.  Dr.  . 

A  NEW  PROCESS;  no  medicine  or  in- 
struments; patients  who  come  to  my  of- 
fice use  capsules  and  call  them  a  hum- 
bug; every  woman  her  own  physician;  all 
female  troubles,  no  matter  what  cause; 
restores— always  in  one  day;  can  be  sent 
and  used  at  home;  all  cases  guaranteed. 


A    MODERN    AESCULAPIUS.  IQ 


ALL  MONTHLY  sickness,  from  whatever 
cause,  restored  in  a  few  hours;  safe  and 
sure  at  all  times  when  others  have  fail- 
ed; every  case  guaranteed;  my  old-time 
remedies  never  fail:  years  of  experience; 
advice  free;  terms  reasonable;  home  in 
confinement.  Mrs.  Dr.  . 

The  evidence  of  Prof.  Hunt  was  overwhelming.  He  proved  conclu- 
sively to  me,  that  the  newspaper  press  was  the  staunch  ally  of  the  profes- 
sional abortionist.  1  could  not  tolerate  the  company  of  this  vile  creature 
any  longer,  and  deplored  in  my  hurried  departure,  that  I  did  not  remain 
with  poor  Ingleby  Drake  as  a  mentor  in  his  hour  of  real  danger,  for  well  I 
knew,  that  an  empty  stomach  overthrows  the  barriers  of  temptation. 


CHAPTER    III. 

Ever  since  1  left  Dr.  Drake  in  company  with  that  arch-fiend,  Prof. 
Hunt,  1  felt  a  sense  of  impending  danger.  I  realized  that  Prof.  Hunt  could 
influence  Ingleby  in  any  direction,  whether  for  good  or  evil,  and  I  was  sure 
it  was  for  evil.  A  knowledge  of  medicine  is  a  dangerous  toy  when  wielded 
by  an  amateur.  Ingleby  did  not  even  attain  the  dignity  of  being  an  ama- 
teur physician.  He  was  a  mere  puppet.  Could  Prof.  Hunt  wish  Ingleby 
to  commit  murder  by  the  administration  of  some  potent  drug  ?  Had  he 
some  motive  for  removing  some  individual — perhaps  a  rich  uncle,  an  obnox- 
ious wife,  or  an  illegitimate  child?  Did  he  select  unsophisticated  Ingleby 
as  his  tool  ?  These  were  the  questions  which  agitated  my  troubled 
thoughts. 

A  master  mind  in  medicine  might  execute  crime  without  detection,  but 
a  mere  dabbler  in  medicine,  such  as  1  knew  Prof.  Hunt  to  be,  would  plan 
crime  so  cruelly,  that  detection  was  a  foregone  conclusion. 

I  had  spent  the  night  in  restless  sleep,  assailed  by  horrible  visions  of 
my  poor  friend,  Ingleby  Drake,  and  it  was  a  relief  to  read  at  the  breakfast 
table  in  The  Daily  Hypocrite  t  that  the  bomb  had  burst. 

I  had  always  anticipated  something,  and  I  was  not  disappointed.  The 
Damoclean  sword  had  fallen.  My  suspense  was  now  over.  I  confess  that 
1  read  the  head-lines  of  the  tragic  occurrence  with  a  sensation  of  relief, 
mingled  with  sorrow.  Relief  for  myself,  such  is  selfishness  ;  sorrow  for 
my  friend,  such  is  charity  : 

ANOTHER  VICTIM  OF  THE  ABORTIONIST. 


MARY   RULEY,  OF    TULENE,  DIES    A  HOR- 
RIBLE  DEATH. 


TRAGIC  END    OF    A    BEAUTIFUL  WOMAN, 
AIDED     BY     THE     COMMERCIAL     IN- 
STINCTS OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 


20  A    MODERN    AESCULAPIUS. 

THE    MURDERER,  DR.  INGLEBY  DRAKE,  A 
PROMINENT  PHYSICIAN  OF  THIS  CITY. 


THE      VICTIM     AT     THE      MORGUE  — THE 
ASSASSIN    IN    JAIL. 

These  were  the  head-lines.  In  the  editorial  column  of  The  Daily  Hypo- 
crite, of  the  same  issue,  I  read  the  following  : 

"Our  beautiful  city  was  again  shocked  yesterday  afternoon  by  the 
occurrence  of  a  murder,  the  nature  of  which  is  repellant  to  every  moral  cit- 
izen of  our  commonwealth.  We  have  been  unremitting  in  our  denunciation 
of  a  crime  which  permits  lust  to  be  gratified  without  penalty,  and  shame 
concealed  by  antenatal  murder.  Notwithstanding  our  sincere  opposition, 
feticide  is  on  the  increase.  It  menaces  the  future  of  our  glorious  country, 
deteriorates  our  race,  arrests  population  and  sacrifices  the  health  of  our 
women.  The  vice  is  so  common,  that  its  venom  is  being  deposited  into 
every  fibre  of  our  body  politic.  It  has  its  origin  in  many  motives,  notably, 
the  impulse  of  passion  and  the  concealment  of  crime.  Let  us  not  waver  in 
bringing  the  murderer  to  justice,  and  exemplify  our  determination  to  check 
this  most  unholy  of  crimes."  'Virtue  alone  outbuilds  the  pyramids ;  her 
monuments  shall  last  when  Egypt  falls.' 

"Verily,"  I  thought,  "  The  Daily  Hypocrite  is  a  great  paper  to  be  able 
to  conciliate  the  masses,  for  another  column  literally  teemed  with  the 
announcements  of  professional  abortionists,  telling  in  unequivocal  language 
the  simplicity  and  advantages  of  feticide." 

As  I  arose  from  the  breakfast  table,  a  note  was  handed  to  me.  It  was 
from  Dr.  Drake,  imploring  me  to  visit  him  at  the  county  jail.  There  in  a 
cell  like  a  caged  animal,  sat  the  remnants  of  Ingleby  Drake.  His  blood- 
shot eyes,  disheveled  hair  and  woe-begone  expression,  pictured  the  inten- 
sity of  his  mental  suffering.  He  looked  at  me  intently  for  many  minutes, 
like  one  in  a  dream.  Neither  of  us  spoke  a  word.  Passing  his  hand  across 
his  forehead,  like  one  awakening,  his  first  word  was,  "  mother."  He 
wished  he  was  back  again  in  his  humble  home,  the  honest  country  boy, 
deaf  to  the  glamor  of  promise,  the  hopelessness  of  ambition.  "  It  was  fate 
that  selected  me  as  a  victim,"  he  cried  in  despair. 

"  Not  fate,  Ingleby,"  I  ventured  to  say.  "  Not  fate,  but  the  laxity  of 
our  laws  which  permitted  the  creation  of  fungoid  institutions  known  as 
medical  colleges,  where  irresponsible  fiends  in  the  guise  of  educators,  lure 
victims  to  their  fold,  and  inculcate  the  lessons  of  crime.  They  cannot  pun- 
ish you  if  they  know  the  truth.  I  will  proclaim,  Ingleby,  to  all  the  world, 
that  you  are  innocent,  that  their  legalized  schools,  not  you,  are  responsible 
for  this  murder." 

"  Say  no  more,  my  good  friend,"  responded  Ingleby.  "  Good-bye, 
and  God  bless  you.  Tell  the  world  the  history  of  my  unhappy  life.  I  may 
never  see  you  again,"  and  with  tears  in  my  eyes,  and  one  hurried  look  at 
the  withered  and  disconsolate  face  of  Ingleby  Drake,  I  hastened  away. 


A    MODERN    /ESCULAP1US.  21 


I  did  not  see  him  again.  The  next  day  he  was  found  dead  in'  his  cell. 
His  finger-nail  and  a  lacerated  radial  artery  at  the  wrist  told  the  story — he 
bled  to  death. 

His  mother  died  of  a  broken  heart.  A  few  days  later  his  father  suf- 
fered an  apoplectic  attack,  from  which  he  never  recovered.  The  family 
was  dispersed  and  the  old  farm  sold  by  the  mortgagee.  The  citizens  of  the 
village  have  erected  a  humble  monument  to  the  memory  of  Ingleby,  and  the 
epitaph  tells  the  story  of  his  life  : 

DR.  INGLEBY  DRAKE, 

Age  24. 
SHEEP-HERDER,  FARMER,  PHYSICIAN. 

Born  and  bred  in  innocence,  seduced  by  specious  promise,  educated  iij 
crime,  and  died  by  self-destruction. 


LEAF    IV. 


A    MYSTERY    OF    THE    LATIN    QUARTER. 


TI,TE  WERE  seated  at  our  club  one  evening  in  complacent  enjoyment  of 
W  our  regalias  and  cocktails.  We  were  discussing  everything  in  general, 

and  medicine  in  particular. 

Physicians  do  not  always,  as  is  popularly  supposed,  carry  with  them 
the  burdens  of  their  patients.  They  relegate  that  duty  to  the  latter  with 
the  utmost  composure. 

"That  appendix,  Brooks,  which  you  removed  for  appendicitis  this 
morning,"  said  Dr.  Wallace,  one  of  our  prominent  oculists,  "  was  there 
anything  in  it  ?" 

"  No/'  replied  Brooks,  "  only  a  cool  thousand.  I  have  another  opera- 
tion on  the  tapis  tomorrow  afternoon,  which  promises  to  be  of  great  inter- 
est," continued  Dr.  Brooks.  "  1  am  going  to  separate  that  double-headed 
monster  down  in  the  dime  museum.  When  first  1  proposed  the  operation, 
they  put  their  heads  together  and  refused,  claiming  that  two  heads  were 
better  than  one.  They  wouldn't  think  of  separation,  as  they  were  fondly 
attached  to  each  other.  Yesterday,  however,  they  got  to  quarrelling  on  a 
most  trivial  matter,  and  what  do  you  suppose,  gentlemen,  it  was  ?" 

"  1  am  like  the  fellow  who  took  the  emetic,"  suggested  our  funny  col- 
league, "  he  gave  it  up,  and  so  do  I." 

"  Well,  1  will  tell  you/'  resumed  Brooks,  "'John,  that's  one  of  them, 
and  Jack,  that  is  the  other  one,  began  discussing  the  civil  war.  John 
stood  for  the  North  and  Jack  for  the  South.  The  discussion  on  such  a  sub- 
ject couldn't  of  course  lead  to  amicable  relationship,  so  they  decided  in  their 
case  at  any  rate,  in  union  there  was  no  strength,  so  tomorrow  they  are 
going  to  separate." 

"  I  wouldn't  perform  that  operation,  Brooks,  if  I  were  you/'  said  Dr. 
Wallace,  "  Remember,  Brooks,  *  Those  whom  God  has  joined  together  let 
no  man  put  asunder/  ' 

We  had  another  drink  at  the  expense  of  Wallace,  and  we  pursued  our 
badinage. 

"  Have  you  noticed  how  pale  and  enervated  Williams  has  been  looking 
lately,"  said  Dr.  Finn,  suddenly  breaking  the  playful  raillery.  "  That 
man  is  a  remarkable  surgeon  and  very  successful,  but  somehow  or  other,  1 


A  MYSTERY  OF  THE   LATIN  QUARTER.  23 

think  he  is  not  destined  long  for  this  world,  riis  valet  tells  me,  that  he  is 
awake  at  all  hours  of  the  night ;  that  he  eats  hardly  anything,  and  seems 
very  much  depressed.  Gentlemen,"  continued  Dr.  Finn,  "  we  all  like 
Williams,  and  we  must  do  something  for  him." 

"  Perhaps  no  greater  misfortune  can  befall  a  physician,"  suggested  Dr. 
Wallace,  "than  sickness.  For  like  the  mythical  Tantalus,  there  is  a  plen- 
titude  within  his  range  of  vision,  but  he  cannot  reach  it.  He  must  perish, 
because  he  has  carte  blanche  in  the  selection  of  his  physicians,  and  to  quote 
an  apposite  axiom,  'Too  many  cooks  spoil  the  broth.'  Like  you,  Finn,  I 
have  also  noted  the  change  undergone  by  our  colleague,  and  he  is  certainly 
laboring  under  some  severe  mental  strain,  i  have  never  seen  any  one  ex- 
ecute an  operation  as  rapidly  as  he,  and  you  must  admit,  gentlemen,  that 
in  my  time,  I  have  witnessed  many  notable  operations.  I  can  regard  his 
ambidexterity  in  no  other  way  than  .by  pronouncing  it  phenomenal.  He 
usually  operates  with  his  right  hand,  holding  his  own  in  a  rather  awkward 
position,  but  in  his  last  operation,  which  I  saw  him  do  only  yesterday,  he 
employed  his  left  hand  with  the  same  dexterity  as  the  right,  holding  his  arm 
in  the  same  awkward  position  as  the  right." 

"Pierre,"  said  Dr.  Wallace,  addressing  the  attendant  at  the  club,  "has 
Dr.  Williams  been  at  the  club  this  evening  ?"  No  sooner  were  the  words 
uttered,  when  the  door  of  the  room  was  forcibly  opened,  and  there  stood 
before  us  Dr.  Williams.  He  looked  pale  and  haggard.  His  clothing  was 
disarranged  and  his  hair  disheveled  He  dragged  himself  with  difficulty 
toward  a  chair,  and  no  sooner  was  he  seated,  than  he  fell  to  the  floor  un- 
conscious. It  was  many  minutes  before  restoratives  revived  him.  In  re- 
moving his  collar,  we  observed  that  a  guard  protected  his  neck.  It-was 
fastened  to  a  cuirass.  Both  were  made  of  metal,  and  so  colored  thafonly 
close  inspection  revealed  the  artifice. 

The  neck  guard  showed  five  shallow  indentations,  four  on  one  side  of 
the  guard  and  one  on  the  other.  The  sleeves  of  his  coat  were  torn,  and 
when  the  latter  were  removed,  it  was  seen  that  the  forearms  were  pro- 
tected by  vambraces.  We  looked  at  each  other,  as  to  fathom  the  meaning 
of  this  strange  state  of  things.  Dr.  Williams  relieved  us  of  suspense,  by 
suddenly  exclaiming,  "  Thank  God,  gentlemen,  I  am  among  friends.  1  can 
bear  this  strain  no  longer,"  pursued  Williams,  "for  fifteen  years  I  have 
martyred  my  being  for  a  crime  committed  by  another.  You,  gentlemen, 
will  bear  witness  to  my  narrative,  for  whatever  fate  befalls  me,  1  declare  to 
you  I  am  innocent.  Finn,"  said  Williams,  turning  to  his  colleague,  "re- 
move the  arm  guards."  After  the  latter  were  removed,  he  continued 
addressing  Finn.  "Here  is  my  pocket  case,  you  will  find  a  sharp  bistoury, 
forceps,  and  everything  else  which  is  necessary.  I  want  you  to  perform  a 
trivial  operation.  Pierre,  a  glass  of  whiskey." 

Having  drank  the  latter,  he  directed  Dr.  Finn  to  make  an  incision  in 
the  forearm,  two  inches  above  the  annular  ligament,  between  the  tendons 
of  the  flexor  carpi  radialis  and  palmaris  longus.  During  the  time  Dr.  Finn 
was  executing  his  bidding,  Williams  seemed  the  most  unconcerned  person 
in  the  room.  "  That  was  very  neatly  done,  Finn.  Now  raise  the  super- 
ficial fascia  with  your  forceps,  and  search  for  a  little  roll."  The  latter  was 
easily  found.  "  Do  the  same  on  the  other  arm,  Finn,  and  you  will  be  sim- 


24  A  MYSTERY  OF  THE  LATIN  QUARTER. 

ilarly  rewarded  by  finding  another  roll."  Finn  did  as  he  was  told,  and  true 
enough  there  was  another  roll,  similar  to  the  one  removed  from  the  other 
arm.  "  Just  one  more  suture,  Finn,  I  want  healing  by  primary  intention. 
I  want  no  scar  to  remind  me  of  the  miseries  of  the  past.  Now  the  bandage', 
Finn.  I  thank  you.  Once  more  my  arms  feel  comfortable.  These  rolls 
are  of  paper,  enveloped  in  an  impervious  covering."  Removing  the  latter 
he  disclosed  the  paper.  "The  paper,"  he  exclaimed,  examining  it  closely, 
"  is  as  perfect  as  it  was  fifteen  years  ago,  when  I  first  placed  it  in  its  rest- 
ing place.  I  have  heard  you  frequently  comment,  gentlemen,  on  the  awk- 
wardness of  holding  my  arms  during  an  operation.  You  have  now  been 
offered  an  explanation.  When  the  rolls  were  first  placed  there,  I  felt  I 
could  no  longer  execute  the  muscular  movements  so  necessary  in  surgical 
work,  and  that  I  would  be  compelled  to  renounce  my  ambition  to  become  a 
surgeon.  Time  and  constant  gymnastic  movements  of  the  muscles  of  my 
hands  and  arms  have  overcome  the  difficulty.  My  ambidexterity  has  been 
purchased  at  the  expense  of  slavish  devotion  to  a  system  of  muscle  train- 
ing, for  I  believe,  gentlemen,  even  had  1  no  deformity  to  surmount,  I  would 
have  nevertheless  devoted  myself,  like  a  skilled  pianist,  to  an  education  of 
my  muscles,  for  the  surgeon  must,  like  the  juggler  or  pianist,  make  his 
muscles  submissive  to  his  will. 

"  To  furnish  you  with  a  history  of  the  rolls,  I  must  recur  to  my  stu- 
dent days  in  Paris.  I  was  a  student  then  at  the  Ecole  de  Medecine,  inspired 
to  work  by  such  famous  men  as  Hayem,  Sappey,  Charcot,  Fournier  and 
Peter.  Ah  !  what  a  galaxy  of  lights,"  said  the  narrator  reminiscently, 
"  they  were  all  stars,  and  every  one  did  shine.  Unlike  many  other  Amer- 
ican students,  who  sought  companionship  among  their  own  countrymen,  1 
was  determined  to  lose  my  national  identity  for  the  time  being.  My  com- 
panions, also  medical  students,  were  Baillon  of  Lyon,  Edmond  Baillon  and 
Jean  Legroux,  from  nowhere,  for  I  never  knew. 

"  The  latter  was  a  curious  specimen,  who  would  have  adorned  a  path- 
ological museum,  but  among  rational  beings  he  was  like  a  fish  out  of  water. 
His  mental  composition  was  of  the  most  capricious  nature.  He  was  alter- 
nately morose  and  jubilant,  charitable  and  vicious,  studious  and  dissolute  ; 
in  a  word,  he  was  a  freak.  Baillon  was  remarkably  diligent  for  a  medical 
student.  His  prospects  were  brilliant,  and  he  was  related  to  one  of  the 
agreges  professors.  Baillon  and  1  had  already  passed  successfully  our  ex- 
aminations, and  all  that  remained  between  us  and  the  coveted  degree  was 
the  presentation  of  our  theses.  Although  Legroux  had  been  engaged  longer 
than  we  in  the  study  of  medicine,  he  had  not  even  passed  a  single  examin- 
ation. 

"  Where  he  obtained  his  funds  no  one  knew.  At  one  time  he  would 
have  an  abundance  of  money,  while  at  another,  he  would  have  none. 
About  this  period,  Paris  was  in  a  ferment  over  certain  mysterious  murders. 
The  victims  belonged  to  the  demimondain.  In  one  week  three  of  these 
unfortunate  creatures  were  found  in  remote  cut  de  sacs  of  the  city,  with  no 
mark  of  evidence  beyond  five  indentations  in  the  neck,  four  on  one  side, 
and  one  on  the  right  side  of  the  neck.  The  indentations  in  all  instances 
were  similar  in  depth,  form  and  position,  The  hand  of  the  assassin,  for  it 
was  undoubtedly  a  hand,  which  had  accomplished  the  murders  by  suffo- 


A  MYSTERY  OF  THE   LATIN  QUARTER.  2 

cation,  must  have  been  extremely  small,  and  it  was  for  this  reason  that  two 
women  were  arrested  on  suspicion.  Baillon,  Legroux  and  myself  made 
these  murders  the  subject  for  frequent  discussions.  The  strangler,  sug- 
gested Baillon,  must  have  been  dominated  by  a  spirit  of  revenge,  while 
Legroux  maintained,  that  the  motive  was  for  purposes  of  robbery.  He  for- 
tified his  position  of  the  argument  so  ingeniously,  that  we  were  compelled 
to  admit  the  correctness  of  his  conclusion.  On  the  day  of  the  last  murder, 
we  directed  our  steps  to  the  famous  morgue  of  Paris,  where  the  professor  of 
medical  jurisprudence  was  to  deliver  a  lecture  and  perform  an  autopsy  on 
the  last  victim. 

"  The  autopsy-room  was  small,  and  access  could  only  be  secured  by 
special  cards  of  admission,  which  Legroux  was  fortunate  enough  to  obtain 
for  us.  The  professor,  in  the  picturesque  and  epigrammatic  diction  of  the 
French  savant,  discoursed  on  the  phenomenal  features  of  the  assassination. 
'  The  hand,'  said  the  professor,  *  which  has  effected  the  murder  was  dimin- 
utive and  powerful.  The  hand  belonged  to  a  woman  of  diminutive  stature. 
I  know,  gentlemen,'  continued  the  lecturer,  *  that  such  crimes  are  not  often 
committed  by  women,  but  let  us  recall  the  words  of  Victor  Hugo,  God  took 
his  softest  clay  and  his  purest  colors,  and  made  a  fragile  jewel,  mysterious 
and  caressing — the  finger  of  a  woman  !  then  he  fell  asleep.  The  devil 
awoke,  and  at  the  end  of  that  rosy  finger  put — a  nail.  For  purposes  of 
demonstration,'  proceeded  the  lecturer,  *  I  will  ask  every  student  to  ap- 
proach the  cadaver  and  encircle  the  neck  with  his  hands.' 

"  Up  to  this  time  I  observed  that  Legroux  was  the  most  interested 
spectator,  but  no  sooner  had  the  lecturer  announced  the  demonstration, 
when  he  turned  an  ashy  hue,  and  would  have  fallen  to  the  floor  had  it  not 
been  for  the  support  lent  to  him  by  Baillon  and  myself.  Each  student 
approached  the  cadaver  in  turn  and  made  the  manual  movement  alluded  to 
by  the  professor.  All  had  made  the  demonstration  excepting  Legroux,  and 
it  was  not  until  then  that  Baillon  and  1  had  noted  his  absence. 

"  We  regarded  his  conduct  as  most  singular,  but  neither  of  us  at  that 
time  disclosed  our  suspicions  to  each  other.  That  evening  we  found 
Legroux  in  a  brasserie  in  a  dreadful  state  of  intoxication.  For  the  first 
time  since  our  acquaintance,  we  remarked  the  dissimilarity  between  his  two 
hands.  The  right  hand  was  phenomenally  small,  whereas  the  left  hand 
was  of  normal  proportions.  Why  had  we  never  remarked  this  before  can 
only  be  attributed  to  a  neglect  of  the  powers  of  observation.  Legroux  was 
too  intoxicated  to  recognize  our  presence,  so  we  left  him,  determined  at  the 
end  of  the  week  to  remove  to  some  other  habitation.  When  we  returned 
to  our  quarters,  we  discussed  until  an  early  hour  in  the  morning  the  epi- 
sodes of  the  day.  Baillon  recalled  to  my  mind  a  fact  which  had  hitherto 
escaped  me.  Legroux  had  frequently  in  our  conversation  astounded  us 
with  his  knowledge  of  the  language,  customs  and  religion  of  the  Hindoos. 
We  recalled  his  dark  complexion,  slender  figure  and  pleasing  countenance 
and  manner.  '  Perhaps,'  suggested  Baillon,  '  he  is  a  thug/  My  knowl- 
edge of  thuggism  prevented  me  from  accepting  this  belief.  His  ancestors 
may  have  been  thugs,  I  replied,  and  heredity  may  have  asserted  itself  in 
him,  but  the  religious  assassins  of  India  never  murdered  women.  It  was 
against  all  rules. 


26  A  MYSTERY  OF  THE   LATIN  QUARTER. 

"  Let  us  say  nothing  about  our  disclosures,  Baillon,  said  I,  the  evi" 
dence  at  our  command  is  only  presumptive  anyway,  and  '  murder  will  out/ 
Then  we  retired  to  rest,  but  only  to  unrest. 

"Students,  especially  in  Paris,  must  have  their  escapades.  Baillon, 
although  a  thorough  student,  was  no  exception.  He  formed  a  liaison  with  a 
grisette.  Legroux  was  also  enamoured  with  the  same  woman.  1  pleaded 
with  Baillon  to  relinquish  his  rights  in  favor  of  Legroux.  That  man,  I 
cried  in  despair,  when  1  found  Baillon  obdurate  to  my  entreaties,  will  ac- 
complish his  purpose.  Employ  means  fair  or  foul,  you  cannot  contest  the 
matter  with  him.  Poor  Baillon,  1  grieved  for  him.  Perhaps  the  same  fate 
awaited  him  as  the  unfortunate  creatures  whom  we  had  seen  together  at 
the  morgue  only  a  few  days  before. 

"As  I  had  anticipated,  Baillon  and  Legroux  quarrelled,  and  they  ex- 
changed blows.  The  result  which  1  had  anticipated  was  sure  to  follow.  In 
two  days  we  were  prepared  to  leave  our  quarters.  In  the  meanwhile,  I 
did  not  allow  Baillon  to  quit  my  sight.  On  the  morning  of  the  day  set 
for  our  departure,  I  went  to  hear  the  famous  Charcot  at  the  Salpetriere, 
the  Mecca  for  the  study  of  nervous  diseases. 

"  Immediately  after  the  lecture  the  chef  de  clinique  handed  me  a  note. 
It  was  from  my  landlady.  She  directed  me  to  come  home  at  once.  Baillon 
was  very  sick  and  was  not  expected  to  live.  1  jumped  into  a  passing  fiacre, 
and  directed  to  be  driven  to  my  address  in  all  possible  haste.  When  I  en- 
tered the  house  all  was  confusion.  With  tears  streaming  down  her  cheeks, 
the  landlady  informed  me  between  her  sobs,  that  Baillon  was  taken  sud- 
denly ill  after  breakfast  with  an  attack  of  vomiting  and  fainting,  and  that 
he  was  now  unconscious.  She  had  summoned  a  neighboring  physician, 
but  he  had  pronounced  the  case  hopeless,  leaving  him  to  be  cared  for  by 
Legroux. 

"  I  lost  no  time  in  reaching  the  apartment  of  Baillon.  He  was  breath- 
ing stertorously,  and  was  oblivious  to  his  surroundings.  Seated  at  his  bed- 
side was  Legroux  applying  effusions  to  his  forehead.  The  diminutive  right 
hand  of  Legroux  seemed  more  conspicuous  than  ever.  I  could  hardly  re- 
strain myself  from  throttling  the  murderer,  and  thus  ridding  the  world  of 
this  fiend  incarnate.  A  sardonic  smile  lit  the  features  of  Legroux.  I  asked 
him  for  an  explanation  of  the  tragedy.  He  could  give  none.  '  Baillon  was 
suddenly  seized  with  a  fit  of  illness  after  I  had  left  him  in  the  morning.  You 
were  the  last  person  with  him,'  said  Legroux,  maliciously,  '  you  know, 
perhaps,  more  about  his  sickness  than  I.' 

"  Do  you  mean  to  thrust  your  diabolic  crime  on  me,  1  said,  with  acer- 
bity." 

"  If  you  chose  to  so  interpret  it,"  replied  Legroux,  "  it  is  no  fault  of 
mine." 

"Fiend,"  1  cried  aloud,  "you  are  in  league  with  the  devil,  and  this 
time  you  cannot  escape  the  guillotine,  Leave  us,  and  summon  a  priest, 
Baillon  must  receive  extreme  unction,  according  to  the  rites  of  the  church." 
Legroux  had  left  us  but  fifteen  minutes  before  Baillon  recovered  conscious- 
ness, but  only  for  a  moment.  He  whispered  the  words,  "MEURTRE,  RE- 
GARDEZ  L'ESTOMAC."  The  murderer  who  is  he,  the  stomach,  where  shall 
I  look  ?  I  cried  distractedly.  Baillon  did  not  hear  me  ;  he  relapsed  into  un- 
consciousness, and  in  a  few  minutes  he  breathed  no  more. 


A  MYSTERY  OF  THE   LATIN  QUARTER.  27 

Legroux  returned  in  an  hour  with  the  priest.  "  My  good  father,"  said 
I  to  the  priest,  "  Baillon,  whom  you  regarded  so  highly,  no  longer  needs 
your  ministrations,  he  is  in  heaven."  "And  may  God  have  mercy  on  his 
soul,"  replied  the  faithful  servant  of  God.  "  Legroux,"  said  I,  when  we 
were  alone,  "  you  know  more  about  this  matter  than  you  dare  to  tell." 

"  Have  a  care,"  responded  Legroux  quietly.  "  There  are  many  mys- 
terious paths  that  lead  to  death,"  and  to  the  guillotine,  I  interposed  quickly. 
"  1  shall  see  that  the  death  of  Baillon  is  avenged." 

"Remember,  my  young  American,"  he  ventured  to  reply,  *'  never 
incur  the  enmity  of  a  Legroux.  Accusations  are  easy,  proof  difficult.  I 
have  also  my  suspicions.  I  will  submit  my  evidence  when  the  proper  time 
arrives.  You  will  observe  that  I  am  more  charitable  than  you.  We  will 
go  together  and  witness  the  autopsy  on  our  friend,  and  with  you,  I  swear, 
his  death  will  be  avenged." 

The  autopsy  was  set  for  the  following  day  at  noon.  In  the  interval  1 
was  harrassed  by  all  kinds  of  misgivings.  I  knew  not  what  the  morrow 
would  bring  forth.  Perhaps  Legroux  would  accuse  me  as  the  murderer.  1 
dare  not  recall  the  untold  agony  which  I  suffered  that  day.  I  thought  I 
should  go  mad,  1  already  saw  myself  an  inmate  of  Bicetre.  What  proof 
had  I  that  I  was  not  the  murderer  ?  The  morrow  came.  Legroux  was  al- 
ready at  the  autopsy-room,  calm  and  collected.  What  a  contrast  to  my 
miserable  being. 

The  student  of  physiognomy  would  not  have  hesitated  to  select  me  of 
the  two  as  the  assassin.  My  desire  to  see  the  assassin  brought  to  justice 
was  usurped  by  the  ignoble  impulse  that  the  murderer  should  go  unpun- 
ished. Yes,  gentlemen,  I  regret  to  confess  it,  anxiety  of  self  had  branded 
me  as  a  coward.  The  autopsy  revealed  nothing.  In  such  cases  the  stom- 
ach is  removed  and  sent  to  the  public  analyst  for  a  chemical  examination  of 
its  contents. 

Legroux  and  I  met  again  in  the  laboratory  of  the  chemist.  The  latter 
opened  the  stomach  only  partially,  and  emptied  its  contents  into  a  small 
vessel.  He  would  announce  the  result  of  his  examination  on  the  following 
day.  To  my  query,  whether  I  could  take  the  stomach,  he  answered  in  the 
affirmative,  and  wrapping  the  organ  in  a  piece  of  cloth,  I  left  the  laboratory 
with  the  package  in  my  pocket.  I  returned  to  my  room.  I  gave  no  thought 
to  Legroux.  The  last  words  of  Baillon,  "  murder,  look  in  the  stomach," 
left  their  impression  on  my  mind.  With  feverish  anxiety,  I  laid  open  the 
stomach  with  a  bistoury.  It  contained  nothing.  I  was  prepared  to  cast 
the  stomach  away,  when  something  unusual  hidden  in  the  folds  of  the 
stomach  attracted  my  attention.  I  seized  it  eagerly.  It  was  a  small  roll 
of  paper.  Instinct,  it  must  have  been  that,  which  prompted  me  to  look 
around,  and  there  standing  behind  my  chair  was  Legroux.  His  face  was 
contorted  and  presented  a  deathly  pallor. 

That  face  haunts  me  still.  It  has  haunted  me  for  fifteen  years,  awake 
or  asleep,  that  vision  has  never  escaped  me.  In  a  moment  I  felt  the  grasp 
of  his  hand  about  my  throat,  you  see  the  mark  on  my  throat  still,  they  will 
never  be  effaced.  That  was  all  I  remember.  When  I  regained  conscious- 
ness, the  sun  was  streaming  into  my  room.  There  by  my  side  oa the  floor 
lay  Legroux,  his  left  hand  tightly  clutching  something. 


28  A  MYSTERY  OF  THE   LATIN  QUARTER. 

With  difficulty  I  opened  his  hand  and  removed  the  roll  of  paper,  which 
I  had  extracted  the  previous  night  from  the  stomach  of  Baillon.  Legroux 
was  lying  in  a  pool  of  blood.  He  was  not  dead,  for  I  could  hear  him 
breathe.  The  explanation  of  his  presence  and  the  blood  was  not  difficult. 
The  bistoury  which  1  had  used  in  opening  Baillon's  stomach  was  yet  in  my 
hand  when  he  attempted  to  strangle  me.  It  must  have  entered  his  jugular 
vein,  for  the  wound  on  jhis  neck  corresponded  to  the  anatonic  positon  of 
that  vessel. 

With  great  difficulty  I  reached  the  street,  eager  to  escape  from  the 
scene  of  so  much  misery.  My  first  thought  was  to  learn  what  the  roll  of 
paper  contained.  I  entered  a  cafe,  where  1  selected  a  private  room.  Nerv- 
ously I  unfolded  the  roll  of  paper,  and  on  it  was  written  in  the  handwriting 
of  Baillon  which  was  unmistakable  : 

"  Jean  Legroux, 
Dec.  4,  1882." 

Baillon  had  thus  revealed  his  murderer — Jean  Legroux.  This  paper 
was  the  only  evidence  I  had  of  my  innocence.  At  that  time  I  did  not  think 
of  employing  it  against  the  assassin.  I  thought  then  only  of  a  place  of 
concealment.  That  place  my  friend,  Dr.  Finn,  has,  under  my  guidance, 
found  this  evening.  It  was  too  large  as  one  piece  to  be  deposited  under  the 
skin,  so  I  cut  it  in  half,  and  after  wrapping  each  piece  in  an  impervious 
covering,  made  incisions  in  either  forearm,  directing  a  fellow-student  to  sew 
the  wounds  thus  made.  I  left  Paris  that  very  day,  after  learning  from  the 
chemist,  that  the  results  of  the  analysis  were  negative.  From  Paris  I  went 
to  Heidelberg,  where  1  took  a  course  in  surgery  under  that  celebrated  mas- 
ter, Czerny. 

One  evening  when  I  was  returning  from  a  kneipe  in  the  celebrated 
university  town,  1  was  passing  through  a  little  alley  leading  from  the  Haupt- 
strasse  to  the  Anlage,  where  1  resided,  when  I  felt  somebody  clutch  at  my 
throat.  That  clutch  was  unmistakable.  Legroux  still  lived.  With  rare 
presence  of  mind,  I  seized  my  pistol  from  a  convenient  pocket,  and  leveling 
at  the  head  of  my  enemy,  threatened  to  shoot  him. 

He  relinquished  his  grasp,  and  falling  on  his  knees,  coward  that  he 
was,  begged  me  to  spare  his  life.  I  knew  that  he  would  haunt  me  as  long 
as  he  lived.  It  was  his  life  or  mine.  1  would  have  it,  if  only  for  the  sake 
of  my  future  peace  of  mind,  killed  the  cowardly  cur  on  the  spot,  but  the 
thought  of  my  mother  in  her  distant  home,  came  to  me  like  a  vision,  and  1 
suffered  the  wretch  to  depart. 

Soon  after,  1  got  the  instrument-maker  Wolte,  in  Heidelberg,  to  make 
for  me  a  guard  for  my  neck  and  forearms,  which  you  have  seen  this  even- 
ing, for  I  knew  not  how  soon  the  assassin  would  assail  me.  My  life  was  in 
my  neck,  my  honor  concealed  in  my  forearms.  Soon  after  the  occurrence 
in  Heidelberg,  I  returned  to  San  Francisco.  Everywhere  1  went  the  vision 
of  Legroux  was  before  me.  When  I  did  not  see  him  in  reality,  1  saw  him 
in  my  disordered  imagination.  Of  late  he  has  been  more  persistent  than 
ever  in  tormenting  me.  He  has  even  levied  blackmail.  He  has  threatened 
by  a  letter,  received  only  a  week  ago,  that  unless  I  gave  him  a  thousand 
dollars,  he  would  encompass  my  destruction,  either  by  death  or  disgrace 


A  MYSTERY  OF  THE   LATIN  QUARTER.  2Q 

within  a  month.  Of  course  I  did  not  reply  to  his  communication.  On  the 
contrary,  I  was  resolved  that  if  Legroux  ever  attempted  my  life  again  I 
would  shoot  him  down  like  a  dog,  whatever  the  consequences  might  be. 

This  evening  as  I  was  returning  from  the  house  of  my  patients,  I  felt 
the  same  old  clutch  about  my  throat.  Fortunately  his  powerful  grasp  was 
impotent  against  the  guard  which  I  wore  around  my  neck.  I  sought  for  my 
pistol,  but  before  it  could  be  used,  Legroux  had  escaped. 

When  Dr.  Williams  had  finished  his  narrative,  the  attendant  an- 
nounced a  gentleman  who  wished  to  see  Dr.  Williams  at  once. 

"  Shall  I  get  his  name  or  card,  sir  ?"  said  the  attendant. 

"No,  Pierre,  that  is  unnecessary.     Show  him  up." 

In  a  few  minutes  the  door  opened,  and  a  dark  complexioned  individual 
of  slender  figure,  entered  the  room. 

"  My  God,  gentlemen  !"  exclaimed  Williams,  "  it  is  Legroux,  the  mur- 
derer of  Edmond  Baillon." 

"Not  I,  but  you, "said  Legroux,  bowing  politely,  "are  the  murderer  of 
Baillon.  You  will  pardon  me,  gentlemen,  for  this  intrusion,  but  I  have 
come  to  enter  a  formal  complaint  against  Dr.  Horace  Williams  for  the  crime 
of  murder  committed  in  Paris  on  the  4th  day  of  December,  1882." 

"  Jean  Legroux,  here  is  the  paper  written  by  Baillon,  proving  you  to 
be  his  assassin,"  said  Dr.  Williams  triumphantly. 

"  The  paper,1'  replied  Legroux,  losing  his  self-possession  for  the  first 
time;  "  where  is  the  paper  ?" 

"  Here,"  replied  Williams,  "  in  my  hand  is  the  roll  swallowed  by  Bail- 
lon." 

Legroux  rushed  at  Williams  like  a  wild  animal,  and  tore  the  roll  from 
his  grasp,  and  placing  it  in  his  mouth,  faced  the  colleagues  of  Dr.  Williams, 
who  had  come  to  his  assistance. 

"  Well,  gentlemen,  I  defy  you  all,  I  have  swallowed  the  roll.     Williams, 
where  is  your  proof  now  ?'' 

Suddenly  Legroux  was  observed  to  stagger,  and  he  fell  dead  at  the 
feet  of  Dr.  Williams. 

An  autopsy  on  the  following  day  revealed  the  presence  of  the  roll  of 
paper  in  the  stomach  of  Legroux  in  a  position,  as  remarked  by  Dr.  Will- 
iams, similar  to  that  when  found  in  the  stomach  of  Baillon. 

No  poison  could  be  detected  in  the  stomach  contents.  An  examination 
of  the  roll  of  paper  under  the  microscope  demonstrated  the  presence  of  crys- 
tals. These  crystals  eluded  chemical  analysis,  but  a  solution  made  with 
the  crystals  when  injected  under  the  skin  of  a  large  dog,  encompassed  the 
death  of  that  animal  in  a  few  seconds. 

The  chemist  assured  us  that  such  powerful  drugs  of  an  alkaloidal  na- 
ture could  retain  their  toxicity  for  years. 

"  You  are  a  lucky  dog,  Williams,"  said  Dr.  Hill  after  the  completion  of 
the  autopsy  on  the  body  of  Legroux.  "  The  poison  held  by  the  rolls  of 
paper  swallowed  by  Legroux  was  derived  from  the  stomach  of  poor  Baillon, 
and  it  was  the  poison  given  to  Baillon  with  murderous  intent  which  encom- 
passed the  death  of  Legroux.  If  you  had  not  enveloped  the  rolls  of  paper 
in  an  impermeable  covering  before  placing  them  under  your  skin,  you 
would  long  ago  have  been  numbered  among  the  unnumbered  dead." 


LEAF  V. 


THE    IMAGERY    OF    LOVE. 


THE  professor  of  Paleontology  was  sitting  in  his  library  engaged  in  writ- 
ing a  novel.     He  did  so  for  diversion.     He  was  eminently  practical  and 

inveighed  against  the  sentimental  trash  which  was  distributed  by 
romancists.  • 

His  novel  was  to  be  modern  and  real.  Before  him  on  his  writing  table, 
was  a  passage  from  a  modern  novel  which  was  as  follows  : 

"Adoiphus  hesitated  before  he  took  the  hand  of  Rosemonde,  when  the 
latter  heaved  a  gentle  sigh.  This  was  the  signal  for  action.  Slowly  dis- 
engaging his  hand  from  the  divine  creature,  he  allowed  his  arms  to  encircle 
her  supple  form,  placing  her  head  upon  his  manly  bosom,  he  allowed  it  to 
oscillate  in  measured  unison  with  the  rhythmic  action  of  his  heart.  Then 
both  sighed  and  uttered  sweet  inanities  to  each  other." 

"  Such  rot,"  soliloquized  the  professor.  Here  are  two  creatures,  Adoi- 
phus and  Rosemonde,  who  would  be  known  in  real  life  as  Jack  and  Mary. 
This  Jack  called  on  Mary  and  hesitates  before  he  takes  her  hand. 

In  matters  of  the  affection  mused  the  Professor,  "  he  who  hesitates  is 
lost."  No  man  of  rational  instincts  would  have  hesitated  for  a  moment. 
Then  the  romancist  allows  a  gentle  sigh  to  escape  the  divine  Rosamonde. 
He  is  extremely  obliging  even  to  permit  that  much.  The  Jack  of  fact,  un- 
like the  Adoiphus  of  fiction,  would  have  compressed  Mary  with  such  vehe- 
mence, that  she  wouldn't  have  a  chance  to  sigh,  and  then  to  gently  remind 
her  that  he  loved  her,  would  have  fractured  a  couple  of  her  ribs. 

Then  the  professor  transcribed  in  the  language  of  reality,  the  remainder 
of  the  passage.  "Seizing  Mary's  head,  he  thumped  it  against  the  upper  part 
of  his  thorax,  between  the  third  and  fifth  ribs  on  the  left  side.  There  he 
allowed  it  to  remain  until  he  was  able  to  get  enough  air  to  oxygenate  his 
blood.  Having  effected  this  object  with  trained  intelligence,  he  allowed  Mary's 
head  to  thump  in  accord  with  his  cardiac  contractions  and  diaphragmatic 
movements.  Then  they  both  breathed  and  ate  caramels."  When  Professor 
Fulter  had  written  the  foregoing  lines,  he  contemplated  himself  in  the  look- 
ing glass  with  the  greatest  satisfaction,  proud  of  the  fact  that  he  would  at 
last  attain  eminence  in  the  realms  of  literature  by  his  fin  de  siecle  novel.  He 
would  have  resumed  writing  had  it  not  been  for  a  gentle  knock  at  the  door. 
A  creature  resembling  a  man  entered.  His  body  protruded  forward  at  an 
uncomfortable  angle  and  he  carried  his  arms  akimbo.  What  looked  like  a 


THE   IMAGERY  OF  LOVE.  3! 

cuff  was  wrapped  around  his  neck  and  his  body  was  swathed  in  garments  of 
the  latest  fashion. 

In  a  word,  the  creature  was  a  dude.  In  an  effeminate  voice,  he  recited 
his  tale  of  love  for  the  professor's  daughter,  Urania.  He  had  come  hoping 
to  be  allowed  to  ask  for  Urania's  hand. 

"  Certainly,"  interrupted  Professor  Fulter,  "  you  may  be  permitted  to 
ask  for  anything,  but  may  I  ask  why  you  only  want  one  hand  and  what 
you  intend  doing  with  it.  You  ha«ve  been  reading  too  many  novels,  Awkins, 
and  your  whole  organism  is  tainted  by  them.  If  you  loved  my  daughter 
in  the  real  way,  you  would  have  told  me  so,  but  come,  I  must  not  be  harsh 
with  you,  I  appreciate  your  embarrassment,  and  beneath  your  grotesque 
appearance  there  may  lurk  something  of  real  value.  Awkins,  I  believe  your 
name  is  Clarendon  Montague  Awkins,"  proceeded  the  professor;  "  have  you 
ever  read  my  work  on  heredity  ?" 

Before  Awkins  could  answer,  the  professor  resumed.  "  I  don't 
suppose  you  have,  Awkins,  I  don't  suppose  you  have,  cigarette  smoking 
and  trying  to  wear  your  monocle  occupy  too  much  of  your  time.  On 
the  first  page  of  that  book  you  will  find  a  quotation  from  Voltaire.  Very 
practical  man,  that  Voltaire.  He  says,  "  If  as  much  care  were  taken  to  per- 
petuate a  race  of  fine  men  as  is  done  to  prevent  the  mixture  of  ignoble  blood 
in  horses  and  dogs,  the  genealogy  of  every  one  would  be  written  on  his  face 
and  displayed  in  his  manners."  "Awkins,  judging  from  your  appearance 
heredity  has  played  the  very  devil  with  you.  You  are  not  a  very  agreeable 
looking  man,  and  I  would  contemplate  your  progeny  with  horror  to  think 
they  would  call  me  grandfather.  You  will  observe,  Awkins,  that  I  am  candid. 
I  express  my  convictions  as  I  feel  then.  1  am  not  permitted  to  do  otherwise 
according  to  the  rules  of  the  '  Society  for  the  Suppression  of  Prevarication,' 
of  which  I  am  an  honored  member.  Perhaps  you  suffer  innocently,  Awkins, 
for  the  faults  of  your  fore-fathers,  mind  you,  I  said  fore-fathers,  I  spell  the 
word,  F-O-R-E.  Perhaps  they  have  eaten  sour  grapes  and  they  have  put 
your  teeth  on  edge." 

"  Permit  me,  professor,"  interrupted  Awkins,"  I  haven't  come  here  for 
a  'leckchar'  on  heredity." 

"  I  know  you  haven't,  Awkins,  but  if  you  want  me  to  recognize  your 
proposal,  you  will  have  to  conform  with  certain  stipulated  regulations.  You 
love  my  daughter.  So  do  I.  My  love  concerns  my  daughter's  future  hap- 
piness. Your  love  concerns  your  present  passion.  In  the  first  place  Awk- 
ins, I  know  my  daughter  loves  you.  She  has  confided  this  fact  to  me  many 
times.  I  will  exact  from  you  only  that  much  which  you  may  exact  from  me. 
You  must  visit  our  family  physician.  He  will  inquire  into  your  family 
antecedent  and  personal  history.  He  will  submit  you  to  a  thorough  physical 
examination.  Remember,  Awkins,  I  am  not  asking  too  much.  My  daughter 
will  be  sent  to  any  reputable  physician  whom  you  may  elect.  The  safe- 
guard I  am  taking  concerns  both  of  you.  Your  progeny  will  receive  health 
as  a  heritage,  the  most  sublime  gift  which  parents  can  bequeath  to  their 
children.  If  the  examination  is  satisfactory,  you  must  submit  to  a  correction 
of  your  physical  deformity.  One  of  the  great  laws  of  heredity  is  atavism, 
or  a  reversion  to  the  type  of  some  distant  progenitor.  You  will  pardon  me, 


32  THE   IMAGERY  OF  LOVE. 

Awkins,  but  your  type  is  pronouncedly  suggestive  ;  your  type  can  only  be 
found  in  large  cities  and  menageries.  Remember,  Awkins,  1  refrain  from 
being  harsh.  I  only  speak  my  convictions.  If  you  are  willing  to  submit  to 
my  proposition,  I  will  at  once  address  a  note  to  my  family  physician." 

Awkins  assenting,  Professor  Fulter  wrote  a  letter,  and  handing  it  to  his 
visitor  saw  him  to  the  dcor.  A  few  days  later,  Awkins  returned  with  the 
following  note  from  the  physician  : 

"  My  dear  professor :  In  conformity  with  your  request,  I  have  carefully 
examined  Mr.  Clarendon  Montague  Awkins,  and  find  him  from  the  stand- 
point of  physical  health  eminently  fitted  to  enter  into  the  holy  bonds  of 
matrimony.  I  ascribe  his  awkwardness  of  posture  and  moral  obliquities  not 
to  any  atavistic  tendency,  but  to  the  vicious  habit  of  acquisition.  The  pe- 
culiar attitude  of  his  body  can  only  be  rectified  in  one  way  and  that  is,  by 
placing  his  body  in  splints  for  a  period  of  time  varying  from  one  to  six 
months.  I  believe  this  will  straighten  him.  His  moral  obliquities  can  only 
be  reached  by  hypnotism,  and  to  carry  out  the  suggestive  effects  of  the 
latter,  1  have  recommended  him  to  visit  the  eminent  psychologist,  Dr. 
Fauel.  1  am  sir, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

JAMES  W.  BIBB,  M.  D. 

"  You  have  heard  what  Dr  Bibb  has  written,"  said  the  professor; "  are 
you  prepared  to  remain  in  splints  for  that  period  of  time  and  to  submit  to 
the  suggestive  treatment  of  Dr.  Fauel?  " 

"  I  am  prepared  to  do  anything,"  replied  Awkins,  "  with  one  proviso, 
and  that  is,  that  the  splints  will  be  well  padded  with  cotton,  for  it  would  be 
deucedly  awkward,  don't  you  know,  not  to  say  inconvenient,  professor,  to 
lie  against  rough  boards  for  any  length  of  time." 

The  professor  complimented  Awkins  on  his  voluntary  spirit  of  immola- 
tion, and  calling  his  daughter  Urania,  bade  her  take  a  farewell  of  Claren- 
don Montague  Awkins. 

Dr.  Fauel  was  a  bachelor.  Love  had  never  entered  his  organism.  The 
study  of  science  is  only  too  often  the  antidote  of  love.  But  Dr.  Fauel  saw 
Urania  Fulter.  Instinct  is  stronger  than  reason  and  how  could  any  insignifi- 
cant human  being  thwart  a  force  which  nature  in  her  wondrous  achievements 
has  elected  to  be  the  paragon  of  all  forces  ? 

Dr.  Fauel  recognized  professional  honor  as  much  as  any  man  could 
possibly  do  under  the  circumstances.  He  was  a  physician,  but  he  was 
human.  He  sought  to  correct  the  moral  obliquities  of  Clarendon  Awkins  by 
suggestion,  and  he  was  on  the  road  to  success.  One  day  when  Urania  Fulter 
was  visiting  Awkins,  Dr.  Fauel  engaged  her  in  conversation.  She  desired 
to  know  whether  his  suggestions  would  be  of  permanent  benefit  in  the  case 
of  Mr.  Awkins  and  whether  he  had  really  hypnotized  him. 

Dr.  Fauel,  seizing  the  opportunity  removed  from  his  cabinet  a  small 
body  which  looked  suspiciously  like  a  dried  onion,  which  in  reality  it  was. 
"  You  see  Miss  Fulter,  it  was  with  this  body  that  1  succeeded  in  hypnotizing 
Mr.  Awkins.  It  is  a  rare  talisman  which  was  employed  by  an  extinct  race 
in  Africa  to  induce  sleep.  The  legend  associated  with  this  body  is  that  any 


'THE   IMAGERY  OF  LOVE.  33 

one  who  would  contemplate  it  steadfastly  for  a  few  minutes  would  be  seized 
with  an  uncontrollable  tendency  to  go  to  sleep  ;  that  sleep  would  ensue,  and 
that  when  the  individual  awoke,  the  person  whom  they  had  last  seen  would 
awaken  a  feeling  of  inextinguishable  love." 

,  Dr.  Fauel  had  accomplished  his  object.  No  one  could  impugn  his 
professional  motives.  He  had  merely  improvised  a  legend  for  the  occasion 
with  a  dessicated  onion,  and  it  was  the  onion,  not  he,  which  had  inspired  the 
love  of  Urania  Fulter  for  Dr.  Fauel. 

"  Perhaps  you  would  like  to  examine  this  rare  object  more  closely," 
said  Dr.  Fauel.  Miss.  Fulter  answering  in  the  affirmative,  the  doctor  handed 
the  object  to  her.  "  You  already  have  the  tendency  to  go  to  sleep,  Miss 
Fulter.  "  Your  eyelids  are  beginning  to  droop,  the  object  is  becoming 
indistinct,  you  can  no  longer  hear  my  voice,  your  eyelids  are  closed  ;  you 
cannot  open  them.  You  are  asleep.  Sleep.  You  do  not  love  Mr.  Awkins. 
You  love  Dr.  Fauel,  you  love  him  dearly.  Your  love  for  him  will  never 
become  extinguished.  When  I  count  three  you  will  awake.  One-2-3 
counted  Dr.  Fauel  slowly. 

No  sooner  was  the  number  three  uttered  when  Urania  awoke.  She 
rubbed  her  eyes  mechanically.  She  looked  around  in  a  bewildered  sort  of  a 
way  and  then  her  glance  falling  on  Dr.  Fauel,  she  embraced  him  with  fervor, 
telling  him  with  the  ardor  of  a  lover,  that  she  never  knew  what  it  was  to 
love  before.  Dr.  Fauel  was  overjoyed  with  the  success  of  his  experiment. 
He  accompanied  Urania  to  her  home.  She  wanted  to  tell  her  father  in  his 
presence  how  much  she  loved  him,  and  that  she  would  never  wed  another. 
Professor  Fulter  listened  with  imperturbable  gravity  to  her  recital  of  love  for 
Dr.  Fauel.  It  was  many  minutes  before  the  professor  essayed  a  reply.  At 
last  he  said  : 

"  Dr.  Fauel,  like  myself,  you  are  a  man  of  science.  Perhaps  your 
sentiments  coincide  with  mine  in  relation  to  that  ephemeral  attribute  denom- 
inated love,  viz.,  that  it  is  a  capricious  prank  of  the  imagination.  Love  as  I 
view  it  is  an  acquired  sentiment  which  requires  cultivation  before  it  can 
attain  the  dignity  of  a  permanent  affection.  You  are  no  longer  young,  Dr. 
Fauel,  but  your  mind  is  mature.  You  are  acquainted  with  my  views  on 
heredity  and  for  the  sake  of  the  progeny,  who  will  honor  me  by  calling  me 
grandfather,  1  consent  without  parley  to  the  union  of  two  souls  who  will 
yield  descendants  endowed  with  mental  vigor.  By-the-way,  Dr.  Fauel,  how 
about  your  patient,  Mr.  Awkins,  how  will  he  take  the  matter  ?" 

Before  Dr.  Fauel  could  reply,  the  professor  continued.  "  Before  giving 
you  my  final  blessing  let  us  await  the  results  of  Mr.  Awkin's  treatment." 

The  time  seemed  interminable  to  the  lovers  before  Awkin's  recovery.  He 
did  recover,  however,  and  soon  after  called  on  the  professor.  The  professor 
received  him  with  unusual  cordiality.  He  was  surprised  at  the  marvelous 
change  which  had  been  undergone  by  Awkins.  He  complimented  him  pro- 
fusely, and  was  glad  that  he  had  not  given  his  final  consent  to  the  marriage 
of  his  daughter  to  Dr.  Fauel.  "  Mr.  Awkins,"  said  the  professor  finally,  "  I 
am  now  happy  to  consent  to  the  union  of  my  daughter  with  so  worthy  a 
specimen  of  physical  manhood.  Mr.  Awkins  my  blessings  as  a  happy 
father.'1 


34  THE  IMAGERY  OF  LOVE. 

"Professor,"  said  Mr.  Awkins,  "you  will  pardon  me  if  I  speak  my 
convictions,  especially  so  as  I  am  now  an  honored  member  of  '  The  Society 
for  the  Suppression  of  Prevarication,'  but  the  fact  is,  I  regard  love  as  a 
freak  of  the  imagination.  The  constant  use  of  cigarettes  had  so  undermined 
my  mental  and  physical  health,  that  I  was  no  longer  accountable  for  my 
acts.  Now  that  1  have  fully  recovered,  thanks  to  your  advanced  views  on 
heredity  and  the  unsurpassed  skill  of  Dr.  Fauel,  I  have  decided  that  love  is  a 
diseased  state  of  the  mind  and  matrimony  its  demonstration.  I  ask  no 
release  from  my  promise,  for  I  have  made  none.  I  have  merely  come  to 
thank  you  for  your  great  kindness,  which  1  shall  never  forget.  Remember 
me  kindly  to  your  worthy  daughter." 

Having  uttered  these  words,  Mr.  Awkins  left  the  astounded  professor. 
Attached  to  one  of  the  handsomest  gifts  received  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Fauel  was 
a  card  bearing  the  name  "Mr.  Algernon  Montague  Awkins." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Fauel  continued  to  live  unhappily  for  the  rest  of  their 
lives.  Dr.  Fauel  has  renounced  hypnotism  as  a  dangerous  expedient.  His 
latest  work  which  has  distinguished  him  in  his  profession  is  entitled  :  "  The 
Mutual  Conflict  of  Science  and  Love." 


LEAF    VI. 


THE     EUTHANASIA     CLUB, 


SEATED  before  me  was  Ringgold  Cooper,  a  chemist  of  New  York.  He 
was  thirty-four  years  of  age,  and  a  man  of  Herculean  proportions. 

"  I  have  come,"  said  he,  "to  consult  you  about  a  trivial  matter.  Dur- 
ing the  last  week  I  have  been  suffering  from  toothache  like  pains  in  my 
legs,  and  beyond  slight  unsteadiness  in  walking,  especially  in  the  dark,  I 
have  never  felt  better  in  my  life." 

After  a  thorough  examination  of  his  case,  I  pronounced  him  to  be  suf- 
fering from  LOCOMOTOR  ATAXIA. 

"  That  is  a  disease  of  the  spinal  cord,  is  it  not,  doctor?"  said  he  sto- 
ically. "And  the  prognosis  ?" 

"  Unfavorable,"  I  replied,  hesitatingly. 

"  What  will  be  the  course  of  the  disease  ?  I  want  you  to  be  candid 
with  me,  doctor,  for  I  have  no  false  conception  of  human  life  and  its  foi- 
bles/' 

"  I  will  conceal  nothing,"  said  I  in  reply.  "  You  will  pass  through 
three  stages.  The  first  stage  will  be  marked  by  an  exaggeration  of  the 
the  pains  from  which  you  now  suffer.  Perhaps  in  this  stage  you  may  lose 
your  eye  sight.  In  the  second  stage  your  muscles  will  no  longer  obey  you, 
they  will  become  intractable.  You  will  in  this  stage  require  the  aid  of  a 
cane,  perhaps  two  canes,  to  aid  you  in  locomotion.  In  the  final  stage  you 
will  loss  the  power  of  walking,  and  become  bedridden  or  paralyzed,  and 
then  perhaps  beneficent  nature  will  dissipate  your  misery  by  afflicting  you 
with  some  fatal  disease,  like  pneumonia  or  tuberculosis,  which  will  draw 
down  the  curtain  on  the  tragedy  of  your  life.  Mind  you,  Mr.  Cooper,  the 
disease  may  remain  in  the  first  stage  for  an  indefinite  period  of  time,  or  it 
may  remain  stationary  in  the  second  stage  for  years,  or  even  arrested." 

"And  the  treatment  ?"  interpolated  Cooper. 

"Is  merely  palliative/'  I  replied. 

"  Which  means,  doctor,  that  you  can  only  give  me  temporary  remis- 
sions from  pain.  I  am  an  optimist,"  said  Cooper,  laughingly,  "Nature  is 
indeed  wise  in  her  dispensations.  Our  club  has  delayed  its  inaugural  cere- 
mony, because  no  volunteer  was  ready. 

"  You  are  not  a  member  of  the  suicide  club,  Mr.  Cooper  ?"  I  ventured 
to  ask. 


36  THE  EUTHANASIA  CLUB. 

"You  mistake  me,  doctor,  I  am  nofelo  de  se ;  for  while  suicide  is  a 
criminal  act,  it  is  so  because  it  is  not  sanctioned  by  the  spirit  of  the  times. 
I  am  a  member  of  the  Euthanasia  Club.  Not  heard  of  it  ?  Well,  it  is  pos- 
sible that  you  have  not.  You  see,  doctor,  our  club  is  a  creation  a  little 
ahead  of  the  times.  We  do  not  openly  defy  the  laws  of  the  State,  so  that 
at  present,  there  is  some  secrecy  observed  in  conducting  our  meetings." 

"Our  estimate  of  life  is  computed  from  the  standpoint  of  health.  The 
Euthanasians  believe  in  encompassing  death  pleasantly  and  humanely  in 
the  case  of  cripples  and  all  those  suffering  from  incurable  diseases.  You 
will  agree  with  me,"  he  proceeded,  "  that  life  in  the  concrete  can  be  en- 
joyed with  difficulty,  but  if  to  life  is  added  the  burdens  of  physical  and 
mental  ills,  human  life  becomes  a  veritable  farce.  Of  course  your  verdict  in 
my  case  is  not  final.  The  lethal  committee,  composed  of  three  physicians, 
members  of  the  club,  must  pass  on  the  merits  of  my  disease.  If  eligible  1 
will  be  allowed  to  take  my  final  degree.  I  have  sought  for  great  distinct- 
ion in  my  profession  and  have  not  yet  attained  it.  Now,"  said  he  almost 
gleefully,  "  I  will  in  history  be  distinguished  for  all  time  as  the  first  mem- 
member  of  the  Euthanasia  Club,  who  has  taken  his  third  and  final  degree. 
You  will  hear  from  me  again,  provided  the  lethal  committee  has  pronounced 
favorably  regarding  my  case." 

Having  paid  me  my  fee,  Mr.  Cooper  left  my  office.  In  one  week  I  re- 
ceived the  following  communication  from  the  Euthanasia  Club  : 

"  When  time,  or  soon  or  late,  shall  bring 
The  dreamless  sleep  that  lulls  the  dead, 
Oblivion!  may  thy  languid  wing 
Wave  gently  o'er  my  dying  bed!" 

In  the  name  of  our  beloved  confrere, 
RINGGOLD    COOPER, 

The  Euthanasia  Club  sends  you  greeting,  and  invites  your 
presence  at  the  Valhalla  of  the  Euthanasium,  on  Tuesday, 
January, 3,  1898,  at  12  M.,  when  the  transition  of  Ringgold 
Cooper  to  another  and  purer  life  will  take  place. 

The  departure  of  our  confrere  and  friend  is  worthy  of  a  cordial 
valediction. 

"  Yet  a  few  days,  and  thee 
The  all-beholding  sun  shall  see  no  more." 

At  the  appointed  time,  dressed  in  sombre  black,  as  if  in  anticipation  of 
the  gloom  which  awaited  me,  I  arrived  at  the  Euthanasium.  I  was  received 
at  the  door  in  response  to  my  ring  by  an  attendant  dressed  in  gala  attire, 
and  ushered  into  the  reception  room. 

In  the  latter  room,  Ringgold  Cooper  greeted  me.  He  seemed  flushed 
with  excitement,  such  as  one  witnesses  in  those  on  whom  honors  are  about 
to  be  thrust.  Gathered  about  the  room  were  a  number  of  ladies  and  gen- 
tlemen of  characteristic  intellectual  bearing. 

There  was  nothing  in  their  demeanor  nor  dress  which  suggested  that 
which  I  had  anticipated.  On  the  contrary,  all  was  suggestive  of  a  digni- 
fied festivity.  In  a  few  minutes  the  strains  of  Mendelssohn's  wedding 
march  could  be  heard,  and  at  a  given  signal  the  march  to  the  Valhalla 
began. 


THE   EUTHANASIA  CLUB.  37 

When  we  arrived  at  the  Valhalla,  I  stood  spell-bound  before  the  scene 
which  greeted  my  senses.  The  soft  music  from  some  hidden  recess  con- 
tinued, and  the  atmosphere  was  redolent  with  a  perfume  which  lulled  the 
excited  mind  to  repose.  The  large  hall  was  flanked  by  a  peristyle  made  of 
alabaster  columns-,  which  contrasted  pleasingly  with  the  variegated  tessel- 
lated flooring  ;  a  soft  light  modified  by  colored  glass  illumined  the  hall. 
Rare  exotic  plants  were  distributed  about,  and  an  artistic  fountain  in  opera- 
tion in  the  centre  of  the  hall  added  to  the  architectural  beauty  of  this  orien- 
tal splendor. 

Suddenly  the  music  ceased,  and  for  some  time  we  were  entertained  at 
a  banquet.  Ringgold  Cooper  occupied  the  seat  of  honor.  After  refection 
the  president  arose.  In  a  few  choice  words  uttered  in  an  unmodified  con- 
versational voice,  he  outlined  the  belief  of  the  Euthanasians. 

It  was  a  belief  fully  in  accord  with  science,  not  stationary  as  was  the 
conventional  religions,  but  progressive  and  capable  of  modification  as  sci- 
ence advanced. 

Quoting  the  Greek  philosopher,  Aristotle,  "that  nothing  was  in  the 
mind  which  was  not  before  in  the  senses,"  he  dilated  on  the  quotation  in 
its  application  to  the  tenets  of  the  Euthanasians. 

"  We  do  not  believe,"  he  continued,  "  that  the  human  mind  is  capable 
of  appreciating  more  than  has  been  conveyed  to  it  through  the  senses.  In 
this  conception  of  the  limitations  of  the  human  intellect,  we  are  satisfied. 
My  friends,"  said  he  in  conclusion,  *'  I  will  place  on  the  head  of  Ringgold 
Cooper  a  crown  of  laurel,  the  symbol  of  immortality." 

Again  the  soft  strains  of  music  were  heard.  Rising  from  his  seat,  and 
raising  his  glass  on  high  stood  Ringgold  Cooper,  noble  in  his  bearing, 
mighty  in  courage  and  Herculean  in  his  strength.  In  a  distinct  voice  he 
spoke  as  follows  : 

"  My  worthy  confreres  and  friends  :  The  consummation  of  my  dreams 
has  at  last  assumed  reality.  As  I  stand  on  the  threshold  between  this  and 
another  life  prepared  to  take  the  final  degree  which  the  Euthanasians  in 
their  wisdom  have  seen  proper  to  bestow  on  me,  the  rapturous  delights  of 
my  departure  appeal  to  my  consideration  for  you  in  the  act  of  separation, 
but  separation,  we  have  been  taught  by  the  tenets  of  our  belief,  is  only  a 
journey  to  another  life,  a  journey,  during  which  there  is  no  consciousness, 
but  a  sleep,  to  quote  our  illustrious  master,  Socrates,  '  Like  the  sleep  of 
him  who  is  undisturbed  even  by  the  sight  of  dreams.' 

"  May  you,  my  confreres  and  friends,  begin  your  journey  as  pleasantly 
as  I,  and  with  this  decoction  do  I  pledge  my  faith  in  what  I  have  uttered." 

Placing  the  glass  to  his  lips,  he  drank  the  contents  and  resumed  his 
seat. 

Only  distant  voices  were  now  heard  singing  in  ecstatic  delight  the 
words  of  the  Thanatopsis.  The  guests  in  unison  concluded  the  chorus  : 

"  Thou  go  not,  like  the  quarry  slave  at  night, 
Scourged  to  his  dungeon,  but  sustained  and  soothed, 
By  an  unfaltering  trust,  approach  thy  grave 
Like  one  who  wraps  the  drapery  of  his  couch 
About  him,  and  lies  down  to  pleasant  dreams." 

Ringgold  Cooper  looked  like  one  exalted  to  eternal  happiness,  and  lest 
we  should  disturb  his  sleep,  we  quietly  left  the  Valhalla. 


LEAF  VII. 


A     STUDY     IN     LIGHT     AND     SHADOW. 


TO  HIM  who  doubts  that  affection  is  ofttimes  inspired  by  some  physical 
deformity,  hearken  to  the  brief  narrative  that  is  here  recited  of  Dr. 

Horace  Duff. 

The  doctor  had  married.  He  had  no  business  to  marry.  A  physician 
devoted  to  his  work  cannot  worship  at  two  shrines.  Eros  will  not  be  sac- 
rificed for  Esculapius.  Was  it  not  Michael  Angelo  who  said  of  art,  "Art  is 
a  jealous  god,  it  requires  the  whole  and  entire  man." 

Mrs.  Duff  was  Kitty  McFarland,  one  of  the  belles  of  society.  She  was 
beautiful.  The  society  columns  of  the  daily  press  had  so  pictured  her  at  a 
dollar  a  line. 

The  fact  was,  she  was  not  beautiful.  Dr.  Duff  had  admired  a  little 
tumor  on  the  end  of  her  nose,  which  almost  amounted  to  a  deformity. 

Dr.  Duff  was  a  tumor  specialist.  He  saw  in  the  little  tumor  perched 
at  the  tip  of  his  wife's  nose,  something  divinely  beautiful.  The  average 
man  would  not  have  admired  it.  It  requires  an  artist  to  recognize  art,  and 
tumor  .specialists  are  not  exempt  in  esthetic  extravagances.  Other  men 
have  developed  a  fancy  for  women  with  deformities. 

Dr.  Duff's  devotion  to  his  wife  was  idolatrous.  Unfortunately  he 
gave  her  only  a  very  small  part  of  his  time,  which  proved  disastrous.  Love 
is  a  mutual,  not  an  individual  feeling. 

They  were  not  married  many  months  before  rumor  connected  her 
name  with  an  insignificant  fop,  Algernon  Gray.  Algernon  Gray  did  not 
love  Mrs.  Duff,  but  the  latter  loved  Algernon. 

Her  love  for  Algernon  was  inspired  by  the  fact,  that  she  admired 
blondes,  and  he  was  a  pronounced  blonde.  Algernon  Gray  was  simply 
making  conquests.  He  was  an  amative  egotist  bent  on  making  a  numerical 
estimate  of  his  triumphs. 

"  My  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Duff  one  evening,  after  her  husband  had  re- 
turned from  a  busy  day's  work,  "  I  want  you  to  remove  this  unsightly 
tumor  from  the  end  of  my  nose." 

"  Why,  my  love/'  replied  Dr.  Duff,  "that  to  me  is  the  most  beautiful 
part  of  you.'' 

"  I  know  you  admire  it,  dearest,  but  others  do  not."  She  was  think- 
ing just  then  of  Algernon  Gray  and  his  unkind  reference  to  the  tumor  that 
very  evening. 


A  STUDY  IN  LIGHT  AND  SHADOW,  39 

"We  will  speak  no  more  about  the  tumor,"  said  Dr.  Duff,  "  and  be- 
sides that,  all  wives  should  appear  beautiful  only  in  the  eyes  of  their  hus- 
bands." 

Mrs.  Duff  was  a  woman  of  caprices.  She  enjoyed  her  liason  with 
Algernon  At  last  rumor  reached  Dr.  Duff.  He  scouted  the  idea  that  Mrs. 
Duff  should  show  any  admiration  for  Algernon  Gray.  He  realized  only 
too  well  that  with  some  people,  love  is  not  a  matter  of  sentiment,  but  in- 
voked by  some  physical  condition  which  appeals  only  to  the  eye  or  some 
other  sense. 

Mrs,  Duff  had  frequently  confided  to  him  that  she  loved  blondes,  al- 
though he  himself  was  a  decided  brunette.  That  day  Dr.  Duff  questioned 
his  wife  about  the  truth  of  the  rumor,  which  was  in  the  possession  of 
every  one.  She  did  not  deny  her  admiration,  nay  more,  her  love  for  Alger- 
non Gray. 

Dr.  Duff  was  in  a  quandary.  He  did  not  rave  and  storm  after  the 
conventional  manner  of  romancists,  but  he  deliberated  with  all  the  serious- 
ness of  a  scientist.  He  at  last  formulated  a  resolution,  which  was  to  the 
effect  that  Algernon  Gray  should  become  his  patient. 

Nothing  was  easier.  A  few  days  later,  Dr.  Duff  met  Algernon  on  the 
street.  "Algernon,"  said  Dr.  Duff,  "you  are  not  looking  well." 

"Not  looking  well,"  replied  Algernon.  "I  never  felt  better  in  my 
life,"  and  he  thumped  himself  significantly  in  the  ribs. 

"  That  may  all  be  true,"  said  Dr.  Duff,  "  but  you  know,  Algernon, 
that  physicians  can  see  more  than  one  feels.  I  have  been  observing  your 
eye,  and  I  note  that  there  is  a  slight  gerontoxon,  which  in  time  will  develop 
into  a  serious  complication.  By  taking  this  in  time,  one  can  prevent  com- 
plications, and  there  is  no  time  like  the  present." 

Dr.  Duff  admired  his  own  diplomacy.  He  saw  with  delight  that  his  advice 
was  not  without  effect,  and  that  Algernon  Gray  had  turned  a  deathly  hue, 
and  would  have  fainted  were  it  not  for  the  timely  use  of  a  few  drops  of 
amyl  nitrite,  which  Dr.  Duff  had  judiciously  provided  for  the  occasion. 

Algernon  Gray  submitted.  He  wanted  to  be  cured.  Dr.  Duff  directed 
Algernon  to  enter  his  private  hospital.  The  treatment  would  not  consume 
more  than  a  few  weeks'  time 

"  Have  you  seen  Algernon  Gray  lately,"  said  Dr.  Duff,  to  his  wife 
gleefully,  as  they  were  seated  before  the  fireside  of  their  happy  home. 

"  Not  lately,"  replied  Mrs.  Duff,  with  a  sigh. 

"  Well,  Algernon  is  sick  in  the  hospital,  and  will  soon  be  out." 

Algernon  soon  left  the  hospital,  thanks  to  the  treatment  of  Dr.  Duff's 
drugs.  But  there  was  a  change  in  Algernon.  His  beautiful  complexion 
had  undergone  a  decided- change.  A  grayish  discoloration  now  appeared. 

Algernon,  with  alarm,  called  Dr.  Duff's  attention  to  this  change. 

Dr.  Duff  advised  Algernon  to  take  sun  baths,  which  only  intensified 
the  coloration,  until  in  a  little  time  Algernon  Gray  was  no  longer  a  blonde, 
but  a  pronounced  brunette. 

Dr.  Duff  had  accomplished  his  revenge.  It  was  evident  to  every  one 
that  Mrs.  Duff  no  longer  cared  for  Algernon  Gray,  in  fact  she  loathed  him, 
as  she  did  every  brunette. 


40  A  STUDY  IN  LIGHT  AND   SHADOW. 

Algernon  Gray  was  no  longer  seen  about  town.  His  suspicions  were 
suddenly  aroused,  and  he  suspected  the  malevolent  designs  of  Dr.  Duff,  but 
was  not  sure. 

Gossip  said  that  Algernon  went  abroad  to  consult  Prof.  Lemkauf,  the 
celebrated  Hamburg  dermatologist,  and  such  was  really  the  case,  as  was  re- 
vealed in  a  letter  from  Algernon  to  one  of  his  friends. 

The  letter  said,  that  the  famous  skin  physician  pronounced  his  case 
one  of  argyrosis.  That  it  was  due  to  the  long  continued  use  of  nitrate  of 
silver.  That  the  latter  became  deposited  in  the  skin,  and  became  gray  or 
black  on  exposure  to  the  light.  That  the  solar  rays  were  more  powerful  in 
effecting  this  chemical  change.  Prof.  Lemkauf,  so  the  letter  went  onto 
say,  "  was  experimenting  with  a  chemical  which  would  enter  into  combin- 
ation with  the  silver  deposits  in  the  skin,  and  thus  remove  the  coloration." 

The  physician  was  positive  that  he  would  restore  Algernon's  complex- 
ion. Thus  did  Algernon  learn  of  Dr.  Duff's  perfidy. 

He  would  storm  the  citadel  of  Mrs.  Duff's  love,  not  a  difficult  task,  and 
thus  wreak  his  vengeance  on  Dr.  Duff. 

Dr.  Duff  hearing  of  Algernon's  vengeance,  and  recognizing  his  own 
frailty,  and  fearing  lest  he  should  lose  the  object  of  his  devotion,  the  tumor 
on  Mrs.  Duff's  nose,  and  with  it  Mrs.  Duff,  if  Algernon  should  ever  be 
metamorphosed  to  his  original  self,  he  determined  on  immediate  action. 

He  would  go  to  Hamburg  himself  and  consult  the  eminent  dermatolo- 
gist. So  he  rapturously  kissed  the  tumor  which  adorned  Mrs.  Duff's  nose, 
and  bade  his  wife  good-bye.  He  would  return  in  a  few  months  a  new  man; 
one  whom  she  would  love  as  earnestly  as  he  did  her  tumor. 

He  arrived  in  Hamburg,  and  immediately  consulted  Prof.  Lemkauf. 
The  latter  informed  him  that  the  conversion  of  a  brunette  into  a  blonde  be- 
longed to  the  elements  of  dermatology.  Nothing  was  easier.  A  dozen 
baths  in  a  solution  of  peroxide  of  hydrogen,  prepared  after  the  formula  of 
the  professor,  and  known  only  to  himself,  effected  the  work  so  rapidly,  that 
in  three  weeks  Dr.  Duff  was  not  only  a  blonde,  but  out-classed  Algernon 
Gray  in  the  intensity  of  his  etiolation. 

He  would  now  return  to  the  object  of  his  adoration,  certain  that  Mrs. 
Duff  would  concentrate  her  affections  on  him  only. 

He  had  sufficient  forethought  to  take  with  him  on  his  journey  a  few 
barrels  of  the  peroxide  solution,  made  after  the  formula  of  Prof.  Lemkauf. 

During  Dr.  Duff's  absence  in  Europe,  Mrs.  Duff  was  not  idle.  Another 
blonde  had  inspired  her  admiration. 

To  please  the  latter,  she  had  Dr.  Maxwell,  a  prominent  surgeon,  re- 
move the  objectionable  tumor  from  her  nose.  While  she  was  recovering 
from  the  effects  of  the  operation,  her  husband  returned  unexpectedly.  She 
was  astounded  at  his  metamorphosis.  She  embraced  him  with  an  affection 
she  never  felt  before. 

"  Why,  dearest,  you  are  the  most  distinguished  looking  blonde  I  ever 
saw.  Why  you  seem  displeased,  and  I  worship  you  so  fervently  ;  what  is 
the  matter  ?" 

"  Where  is  the  tumor  ?"  responded  Dr.  Duff,  petulantly. 

"The  tumor/'  replied-  his  wife  falteringly,  "the  tumor,  why,  Dr. 
Maxwell  has  it." 


A  STUDY  IN  LIGHT  AND  SHADOW.  41 

"  Where  is  Dr.  Maxwell  ?"  thundered  Dr.  Duff,  impatiently. 

"  I  will  call  him  dearest ;  please  don't  be  cross." 

His  wife  soon  returned  with  Dr.  Maxwell  ;  the  latter  bearing  the  tumor 
in  a  bottle. 

"  Dr.  Maxwell,"  said  Dr.  Duff  seriously,  addressing  his  colleague,  "  I 
want  you  to  graft  that  tumor  on  my  wife's  nose,  if  my  wife  is  willing." 

"  Willing,  I  should  think  I  was  dearest ;  you  know  you  once  told  me," 
and  she  embraced  her  husband  affectionately,  *'  that  a  wife  should  only 
appear  beautiful  in  the  eyes  of  her  husband." 

The  tumor  was  restored  to  its  place  of  dignity  and  peace,  and  happi- 
ness reigned  in  the  family  of  Dr.  Duff.  But,  alas,  only  for  a  little  time. 

For  some  time  Mrs.  Duff  noticed  with  alarm  that  the  doctor  was  grad- 
ually becoming'a  brunette  again. 

Dr.  Duff  congratulated  himself  on  his  forethought ;  he  would  immerse 
himself  in  the  solution  which  he  had  brought  from  Europe.  He  had  care- 
fully locked  the  solution  in  a  large  safe  which  he  had  bought  for  the  occa- 
sion. 

What  was  his  dismay,  on  opening  the  safe,  to  find  that  the  solutions 
were  no  longer  there.  Surely  the  solution  could  not  have  evaporated. 

He  called  his  wife  hurriedly  to  his  side,  and  complained  bitterly  of  his 
great  misfortune 

"  Why,  my  dear,  you  can  write  to  Prof.  Lemkauf,  and  have  him  send 
you  some  more  of  the  solution." 

"Unfortunate  me/' cried  Dr.  Duff  in  despair.  "  Prof.  Lemkauf  is 
dead,  and  his  formula  has  perished  with  him.  Who  has  opened  this  safe, 
wife  ?"  said  Dr.  Duff  desperately." 

Mrs.  Duff  confessed  that  a  month  after  Dr.  Duff's  return  from  Europe, 
Algernon  Gray  encountered  Mrs.  Duff  on  the  street.  He  had  entreated  her 
to  elope  with  him.  He  loved  her  fondly,  but  she  was  obdurate  to  his  pro- 
testations of  love.  She  remembered  that  a  few  weeks  later,  a  man  came 
to  the  house,  and  said  that  he  had  been  sent  by  Dr.  Duff  to  repair  the  safe; 
she  believed  him,  and  while  occupied  in  the  prosecution  of  the  work,  she 
had  left  the  house. 

"  I  sent  no  one  to  repair  the  safe,"  said  Dr.  Duff,  whose  suspicions 
were  now  thoroughly  aroused.  "  I  know  who  the  miscreant  was — it  was 
Algernon  Gray. 

Algernon  Gray  was  really  the  cause  of  Dr.  Duff's  lamentations,  for 
there  on  the  inner  door  of  the  safe,  were  the  words  written  with  a  stick  of 
nitrate  of  silver. 

'  *  Avenge  is  saccharine. 

Algernon  Gray." 

Peace  no  longer  reigned  in  the  house  of  Dr.  Duff.  The  latter  had  be- 
come himself  again.  Mrs.  Duff  eloped  with  a  blonde  youth  of  nineteen 
summers,  and  Dr.  Duff  married  an  old  woman  who  had  come  to  him  for 
the  treatment  of  an  enchondroma  growing  from  the  upper  jaw. 

Dr.  Duff  treated  the  tumor  successfully  by  leaving  it  alone.  He  mar- 
ried his  patient  and  gives  ecstatic  admiration  to  the  tumor  which  adorns  his 
wife's  jaw,  and  interferes  with  its  motion. 


LEAF    VIII. 


A     MARTYR     TO     HIS     PROFESSION. 


AT  MIDNIGHT,  a  messenger  from  my  greatly  beloved  colleague,  Dr. 
Wilton,  informed  me  that  he  was  dying,  and  desired  to  see  me  at  once. 

I  lost  no  time  in  arriving  at  his  bedside.  Grim  Death,  accompanied 
by  the  Angel  of  Mercy,  had  preceded  me  in  my  visit,  for  the  face  of  my 
dear  friend  already  bore  the  physiognomy  of  impending  dissolution,  which 
benign  Mercy  had  mollified  by  the  tenderness  of  her  presence. 

Mercy  could  afford  to  pay  this  modest  tribute  to  one  so  good  and  pure 
as  Dr,  Wilton.  No  man  more  than  I  was  better  fitted  to  estimate  his  real 
services  to  the  poor,  for  not  only  was  he  their  physician,  but  he  was  also 
their  friend  ;  he  made  merry  with  them  in  their  pleasures,  and  grieved 
with  them  in  their  sorrows. 

Whatever  he  acquired  in  his  profession  was  distributed  among  the 
poor,  for  he  reserved  nothing  for  himself.  The  arena  of  his  good  deeds 
was  a  mere  hovel,  and  his  only  audience  were  the  poor  unfortunates  of  the 
lowly  homes. 

He  possessed  that  which  even  kings  might  envy  if  they  could  only 
realize  the  value  of  its  possession  ;  it  was  a  noble  gift — the  most  sublime 
which  God  could  confer  on  mortal  man.  It  was  conscience. 

Upon  Dr.  Wilton,  God  had  bestowed  the  divine  benison,  and  he  was 
most  worthy  of  its  possession  ;  he  was  the  real  prophet  among  the  people. 
If  kindness  of  action  need  nominal  recognition,  Dr.  Wilton  was  a  practical 
Christian. 

No  biographer  could  more  fitly  give  expression  to  the  occurrences  of 
the  history  of  his  life  than  in  using  the  humble,  though  sublime  word,  sac- 
rifice. 

Sacrifice  conveys  little  meaning  to  those  who  have  not  needed  its  ser- 
vice, but  to  those  who  have  enjoyed  its  beneficence,  no  word  is  more  co- 
gent in  its  import. 

The  picture  of  Dr.  Wilton  can  be  multiplied  a  hundred  fold;  its  replica 
can  be  found  in  any  city  if  one  will  only  seek  for  the  hard  working,  con- 
scientious physician,  whose  field  of  labor  is  among  the  poor. 

"  I  am  dying,"  began  Dr.  Wilton,  as  he  extended  his  hand  in  recogni- 
tion of  my  arrival.  His  voice  was  husky,  but  unfaltering.  "  I  do  not  fear 
death,"  he  said,  "  I  greet  it  as  a  happy  release  from  life.  To  no  religion  do  I 
owe  allegiance,  therefore  the  torments  of  the  hereafter  for  the  unbeliever, 
as  expounded  by  certain  theologians  do  not  exist  for  me.  I  have  sent 


A  MARTYR  TO   HIS  PROFESSION.  43 

for  you,  my  trusted  friend,  because  I  must  account  to  my  conscience  before 
I  pass  over  to  the  silent  majority.  I  must  be  brief  in  my  narrative." 

"  One  week  ago,  the  widow  McCabe's  son  Johnny  contracted  diph- 
theria ;  for  two  days  and  nights  I  never  quit  his  bedside.  The  deposits  in 
his  throat  were  extending  to  his  larynx.  Suffocation  seemed  imminent  un- 
less tracheotomy  was  performed. 

"  The  operation  was  successful,  and  my  patient  could  breathe  freely 
through  the  tube,  which  was  inserted  in  his  wind-pipe.  Knowing  that  his 
breathing  was  unobstructed,  I  was  constrained  to  visit  a  poor  patient  who 
had  already  sent  for  me  on  the  previous  day ;  I  was  gone  longer  than  I  ex- 
pected, and  when  I  returned  to  the  McCabe  hovel  I  found  my  patient,  to 
my  utter  dismay,  in  the  throes  of  suffocation.  The  tube  in  his  wind-pipe 
had  become  obstructed  by  the  false  membrane,  and  every  effort  to  clear  the 
tube  proved  futile. 

"  Johnny  McCabe  has  passed  away,  and  his  mother  is  deprived  of  her 
only  support/'  Here  Dr.  Wilton's  voice  faltered,  and  I  detected  a  tear 
coursing  down  his  withered  cheek,  but  he  recovered  himself  in  an  instant, 
and  resumed,  "  I  feel  that  I  should  not  have  left  the  bedside  of  Johnny. 
Perhaps,  if  I  had  remained  with  him,  1  might  have  averted  the  unfortunate 
ending.  I  have  not  demanded  your  presence  to  recite  my  misdoing.  Mrs. 
McCabe  is  without  money.  When  I  am  dead  I  want  you  to  sell  all  my  per- 
sonal property  ;  it  is  all  I  possess  ;  it  may  bring  fifty  dollars  ;  give  the 
proceeds,  whatever  they  may  be,  to  Mrs.  McCabe — it  is  very  little.  I  want 
you  to  do  me  another  favor,  and  I  know  I  can  trust  you  to  respect  my 
wishes.  The  Galen  Medical  College  is  in  dire  want  of  dissecting  material  ; 
they  are  offering  one  hundred  dollars  for  bodies.  Dispose  of  my  body  to 
the  college,  and  turn  over  the  amount  to  Mrs.  McCabe. 

i  am  an  austere  man,  and  little  given  to  the  frivolity  of  emotion,  but 
who  could  restrain  the  feeling  which  dominated  me  ?  1  confess  it  was  a 
puerile  act,  but  I  did  embrace  Dr.  Wilton — no,  not  Dr.  Wilton,  but  his 
remains. 

On  the  following  day  Mrs.  McCabe  told  me  how  Dr.  Wilton  had  con- 
tracted the  disease,  which  cost  him  his  life.  The  tube  in  Johnny  McCabe's 
throat  was  obstructed,  no  instrument  was  at  hand  to  remove  the  obstruc- 
tion ;  action  to  be  of  service  must  be  immediate.  Heroes  never  hesitate, 
nor  do  they  consider  consequences. 

Dr.  Wilton  knew  that  it  was  suicidal  to  aspirate  the  tube  with  his  mouth, 
but  the  life  of  a  physician  in  the  path  of  duty  was  only  an  abstract  factor. 
This  was  how  he  contracted  the  disease. 

1  am  a  mere  chronicler,  and  as  a  physician,  it  ill  becomes  me  to  com- 
ment on  the  sublimity  of  an  act  worthy  of  apotheosis.  Such  triumphs  of 
sublime  heroism  are  many  in  my  profession,  and  yet  the  hero  returns  "  to 
the  vile  dust,  from  whence  he  sprung,  unwept,  unhonored  and  unsung." 


LEAF    IX. 


A    PATENT    MEDICINE. 


MR.  STEPHEN  DROSS,  senior   member   of  the   drug  firm   of   Dross, 
Stanton  &  Co.,  was  busily  engaged  in  looking  over  his  balance  sheet. 

Suddenly  he  tapped  his  forehead  significantly,  and  looking  up  ad- 
dressed the  manager  of  his  extensive  business. 

"  Williams  ?"  said  he,  "trade  is  dull.  We  must  do  something  to 
scare  up  things  a  bit.  It  was  Talleyrand,  wasn't  it,  who  said,  '  Society 
is  divided  into  two  classes— the  fleecer  and  the  fleeced  ?'  Let  me  see," 
and  again  he  thumped  his  cranium,  "  What  is  the  prevailing  disease,  Will- 
iams?" 

"Well,  sir,"  responded  Williams  deferentially,  "dyspepia,  and  per- 
haps nervous  prostration  seem  to  have  been  taken  pretty  much  into  the 
confidence  of  the  people  lately," 

"  Let's  say  nervous  prostration,  Williams.  Nervous  prostration.  Doc- 
tors don't  seem  to  get  to  the  bottom  of  nervous  prostration,  Williams." 

"  How  can  they,"  replied  Williams,  "nervous  prostration  is  a  pretty 
severe  disease,  and  how  can  doctors  cure  a  severe  disease,  when  they 
haven't  even  gained  mastery  over  the  trifling  ailments.  Now  for  instance," 
continued  Williams,  "  I  have  had  a  corn,  mind  you,  Mr.  Dross,  a  simple 
corn  on  this  little  toe  of  mine  for  well  nigh  on  to  five  years,  and  it's  still 
there,  notwithstanding  it's  been  under  treatment  for  all  this  time." 

"  Yes,  that's  true,"  said  the  senior  member.  "  I've  been  discharging 
bile  into  my  intestine  for  the  last  twenty  years,  and  I  have  taken  every 
conceivable  remedy,  but  the  bile  continues  to  flow.  Suppose,  Williams,  we 
invent  a  patent  medicine  for  nervous  prostration/' 

"  That  seems  to  be  a  pretty  good  idea,"  answered  the  manager.  I 
will  look  up  the  chief  symptoms  of  nervous  prostration,  and  then  I  will  go 
to  Prof.  Cerbrospinalis,  the  great  nerve  specialist,  and  get  him  to  give  me 
a  prescription,  and  then  we  can  patent  the  prescription/' 

"Let  me  see,"  said  the  practical  senior  member;  "the  cost  of  ob- 
taining that  prescription  would  be  as  follows  : 

Car  fare $o.  10 

Time  consumed  in  seeing  the  specialist..      3.00 
Cost  of  Consultation 5.00 


A    PATENT   MEDICINE.  45 

No,  Williams,  that  will  never  do.  Pay  eight  dollars  and  ten  cents  for  a 
prescription  to  cure  nervous  prostration.  No,  sir.  Decidedly,  no,  sir. 
It's  not  the  medicine  which  is  going  to  effect  the  cure  ;  its  the  testimonials 
which  accompany  the  medicine.  Haven't  you  ever  noticed/'  proceeded 
Mr.  Dross,  "that  the  directions  which  accompany  a  patent  medicine  are 
extensive,  and  if  the  patients  follow  those  directions,  they  will  be  on  the 
right  road  to  recovery.  You  remember,  Williams,  that  anti-fat  remedy  we 
got  up  to  sell,"  and  here  the  manager  chuckled  gleefully.  "Well,  the 
remedy  was  water,  colored  with  raspberry  syrup  and  flavored  with  pepper- 
mint. The  directions  on  the  bottle  were  to  take  a  teaspoonful  three  times 
a  day  after  meals,  and  the  meals — .  Well,  you  know,  every  article  of  food 
was  allowed  the  patient,  excepting  articles  which  would  produce  fat.  Now 
its  the  same  with  our — well,  let's  call  it  CHEWINE,  for  almost  every  one 
will  bite.  We  will  get  young  Dr.  Trosse  to  write  a  list  of  measures  for  cur- 
ing nervous  prostration,  and  instruct  our  patrons  that  unless  they  carefully 
follow  the  instructions  our  peerless  catholicon  will  have  no  opportunity  to 
do  good.  Of  course  our  bottles  and  labels  must  be  gotten  up  regardless  of 
expense,  and  as  for  the  medicine — well  that  is  only  to  sell  any  way — that 
must  be  made  pleasant.  And  let  me  say  right  here,  Williams,  that  this  is 
where  we  get  in  on  the  doctor.  What  does  he  know  about  elegant  phar- 
macy ?  He  prescribes  his  nauseous  medicines  with  the  abandonment  of  a 
boarding-house  proprietress,  who  mixes  her  hash.  If  the  physician  knew 
anything  about  pharmacy,  we  would,  to  employ  a  vulgarism,  be  in  the 
bouillon." 

"  Suppose  we  put  new  labels  on  our  anti-fat  medicine  ;  we  have  a 
large  lot  of  unused  bottles  on  our  hands,  for  the  bicycle  fad  has  played  the 
very  devil  with  the  sale  of  the  remedy/' 

"  I  think  that  would  be  a  most  excellent  idea,  Mr.  Dross,"  replied  the 
manager. 

"  There  is  another  thing  1  forget  to  add,  Williams,  and  that  was  the 
question  of  testimonials.  We  must  have  an  accomplished  liar  to  give  us  a 
testimonial.  You  know,  Williams,  there  are  three  grades  of  a  liar  :  posi- 
tive, prevaricator;  comparative,  liar;  and  superlative,  writer  of  medical  testi- 
monials. If  I  were  to  comment  further  on  this  comparison,  I  would  say, 
that  the  testimonial  is  even  more  potent  than  the  label,  let  alone  the  medi- 
cine, for  that  is  entirely  out  of  the  question." 

"  Do  you  know  a  worthy  liar,  Williams.  One  who  is  past-master  in 
his  art,  and  who  enjoys  some  distinction  as  a  physician  ?" 

"  Why,  I  know  the  very  man  for  you,"  responded  Williams  with  alac- 
rity. "  It  is  Dr.  Wike  ;  he  is  the  very  man." 

"Why,  the  very  man,  Williams?" 

"This  Dr.  Wike  is  unprincipled.  He  will  subscribe  to  anything,  pro- 
vided there  is — " 

"Yes,  I  know,  interrupted  the  senior  member,  "If  there  is  enough 
money  in  it." 

"  He  would  do  anything  for  money,  Mr.  Dross." 


46  A    PATENT    MEDICINE. 

"  Perhaps,  Williams,  he  has  found  money  will  do  anything  for  him. 
You  go  tomorrow  and  see  Dr.  Wike.  We  will  get  his  testimonial,  and  then 
get  the  indorsement  of  the  medical  profession." 

"  I  don't  think  Dr.  Wike  is  regarded  with  favor  by  the  profession.  He 
is  an  ignoramus,  but  for  some  unaccountable  reason  has  enjoyed  a  large  prac- 
tice; however,  I  hear  his  practice  is  fast  ebbing  away,  and  dollars  will 
prove  seductive  to  him." 

This  was  the  conversation  which  led  to  the  introduction  of  one  of  the 
most  successful  proprietary  medicines  of  the  times. 

The  next  day  Mr.  Williams,  the  manager,  was  ushered  into  the  pres- 
ence of  Dr.  Wike.  Mr.  Williams  briefly  related  the  object  of  his  visit. 
Dr.  Wike  was  one  of  those  slow,  deliberating  individuals,  who  from  force 
of  habit,  was  constantly  rubbing  his  hands.  He  coughed  a  few  times,  and 
then  the  supreme  hypocrite  bowed  patronizingly,  pulled  down  his  vest  and 
said  nothing.  At  last  he  broke  the  monotony. 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Williams,  I  could  not  think  of  traducing  my  noble  pro- 
fession for  a  sum  less  than  two  hundred  dollars  ;  of  course  you  under- 
stand," and  then  he  coughed  slightly,  continuing  to  rub  his  hands,  "  that 
this  amount  would  be  for  a  mere  testimonial  only.  Perhaps  something  like 
this  : 

"To  The  Chewine  Chemical  Company, 

Gentlemen : — 

I  have  analyzed  your  peerless  remedy,  'Chewine,'  and  find  it  to 
be  composed  of  chemically  pure  ingredients  so  nicely  blended,  that  it 
conciliates  the  taste,  improves  the  appetite,  regulates  the  bowels,  facili- 
tates digestion,  and  conducts  the  sufferer  by  an  easy  route  to  absolute 
health!" 

"  That  is  an  excellent  testimonial,  Dr.  Wike,  but  you  have  not  yet 
seen  our  preparation,  'chewine.'  ' 

"That  is  entirely  unnecessary,"  said  Dr.  Wike,  "it  is  better  that  I 
should  not  see  it,  otherwise  1  might  be  prejudiced  in  writing  the  testimonial." 

"  You  understand,  doctor,  our  object  is  to  introduce  the  remedy  to  the 
medical  profession  only.  We  want  the  endorsement  of  physicians." 

"Ah,  yes,"  and  Dr.  Wike  coughed  again  and  rubbed  his  hands.  "  In 
that  case  I  can  publish  in  some  medical  journal  a  list  of  cases  in  which  the 
remedy  has  been  tried  and  found  useful.  Such  a  contribution  will  cost  you 
five  hundred  dollars." 

"Well,  doctor,  if  you  will  have  ready  such  an  article,  say  in  two 
months,  we  will  accede  to  your  terms,  and  in  the  meanwhile,  1  will  send 
you  a  case  of  the  medicine  for  trial." 

"  I  hardly  think  that  will  be  necessary,  Mr.  Williams.  If  you  can  fill 
this  blank  check  for  the  amount,  I  can  give  you  the  contribution  at  once, 
which  you  can  send  to  the  medical  journal." 

Mr.  Williams  assenting  to  this  proposition,  Dr.  Wike  called  his  amanu- 
ensis and  dictated  his  contribution,  a  synopsis  of  which  is  here  appended  : 


A  PATENT  MEDICINE.  47 


"CHEWING,"  A  SOVEREIGN  REMEDY  FOR  NERVOUS   PROSTRATION 
—CLINICAL  RECORD  OF  CASES  TREATED. 

By  Phineas  Wike,  M.D.,  T.Y.  3,  X.C.L.N.T,  I.X.L.,  R.A.T.S.,  etc.,  etc. 

Professor  of  Diseases  of  the  Big  Toe  in  "  The  Way  Up  Medical  College." 

I  have  used  this  excellent  remedy  in  six  hundred  cases  of  nervous 
prostration  with  invariable  success.  The  cases  were  all  of  a  pronounced 
form,  and  had  resisted  all  ordinary  remedies.  Constant  use  of  Chewine 
for  over  two  years  convinces  me  of  its  specific  nature,  which  warrants  me  in 
formulating  the  following  conclusions  : 

1.  Chewine  is  a  specific  in  all  cases  of  nervous  prostration. 

2.  It  is  easily  assimilated  and  pleasant  to  look  at  and  to  take. 

3.  Its  cost  is  moderate. 

4.  The  ingredients  have  been  carefully  selected  from  foreign  and  ex- 
pensive drugs. 

5.  It  is  composed  by  skilled  chemists  after  years  of  patient  and  labor- 
ious research. 

6.  The  manufacturers  have  refrained  from  publishing  the  formula, 
fearing  lest  the  members  of  our  noble  profession  would  be  imposed  on  by 
unscrupulous  pretenders." 

After  Mr.  Williams  had  carefully  read  the  contribution  and  expressed 
his  approval,  he  enquired  of  Dr.  Wike,  how  he  thought  the  medical  pro- 
fession would  receive  the  new  remedy. 

The  physician  answered,  that  the  members  of  the  profession  were 
mostly  susceptibly  credulous,  and  that  they  never  suffered  from  dysphagia 
or  difficult  swallowing  when  it  came  to  the  acceptance  of  a  new  remedy. 
"Thefactis,"  contended  the  physician, "the  members  of  my  profession  are  not 
desirous  of  burdening  their  minds  with  the  remedies  of  the  materia  medica, 
and  they  delight  in  learning  of  something  that  will  render  their  work  easy. 
If  a  patient  comes  to  them  suffering  from  nervous  prostration,  they  never 
think  of  prescribing  for  the  patient,  but  for  the  disease.  And  if  this  were 
all,  it  would  be  well,  but  they  rarely  even  go  to  the  trouble  of  examining 
the  patient,  but  construct  the  diagnosis  from  what  the  patient  tells  them." 

"  There  is  one  feature  which  I  would  suggest  in  getting  up  your  labels. 
Have  a  lithograph  made  of  one  of  the  old^  masters  in  medicine,  say  Hippo- 
crates, for  instance ;  that  will  help  matters  along  wonderfully,  but  see  that 
the  artist  idealizes  the  face.  Give  him  carte  blanche  as  long  as  he  prints 
under  the  face  the  name  Hippocrates.  Use  the  Greek  letters — they  look 
better.  If  you  attempt  to  resuscitate  Hippocrates  for  label  purposes,  make 
him  at  least  modern." 

After  thus  delivering  himself  and  pocketing  the  proffered  check,  Dr. 
Wike,  still  rubbing  his  hands,  bowed  his  visitor  out  and  rang  the  bell  for 
the  next  patient. 

.One  year  elapsed  since  the  visit  of  Williams  to  Dr.  Wike.  The  sale 
of  chewine  was  enormous.  Contributions  from  the  medical  profession  all 
over  the  country,  confirmed  its  wonderful  properties. 

'  Williams,"  said  Mr.  Dross,  one  day  in  the  private  office  of  the 
former,  "  the  sale  of  chewine  is  prodigious,  and  now  that  we  have  obtained 


48  A    PATENT    MEDICINE. 

the  unqualified  endorsement  of  the  medical  profession,  we  are  justified  in 
advertising  it  to  the  public  at  large.  This  will  increase  our  sales  ten  fold. 
The  medical  profession  may  take  offense  at  this  stroke  of  business  policy, 
but  they  cannot  retract  their  endorsement,  for  their  recommendation  of 
chewine  to  their  patients  has  been  well  nigh  universal." 

"  Chewine"  was  rapidly  hoisted  into  fame,  and  it  became  a  household 
word  in  every  family.  Children  recited  poetry  to  the  refrain  of  chewine. 
Valuable  souvenirs  were  soon  distributed  to  the  greatest  consumers  of  the 
remedy,  and  their  photographs  were  published  in  the  daily  press. 

The  firm  of  Dross,  Stanton  &  Co.  became  fabulously  wealthy,  but  alas 
for  success,  the  senior  member  after  chasing  wealth  lost  health,  and  now 
he  was  compelled  to  chase  health  and  neglect  wealth.  His  ailment  was 
nervous  prostration.  He  had  employed  all  the  local  physicians  with  no 
result.  His  vitality  was  becoming  rapidly  exhausted.  In  despair  he  vis- 
ited New  York  to  consult  the  eminent  nerve  specialist,  Dr.  Cerebrum. 

Dr.  Cerebrum  was  an  expert  on  nervous  prostration.  He  was  himself 
a  sufferer  from  the  disease,  brought  about  by  too  close  attention  to  the  duties 
of  his  profession.  Dr.  Cerebrum  directed  Mr.  Dross  to  detail  his  symp- 
toms, enjoining  him  at  the  same  time  to  be  brief.  Mr.  Dross,  like  all  suf- 
ferers from  nervous  prostration,  was  obnoxiously  discursive,  and  before  he 
had  gotten  further  than  the  depressed  feeling,  numbness,  pressure  in  the 
head,  weariness,  loss  of  appetite,  palpitation,  etc.,  he  was  interrupted  by 
Dr.  Cerebrum,  who  referred  him  to  his  amputation  clerk  in  the  neighbor- 
ing room. 

"  The  amputation  clerk/'  replied  Dr.  Cerebrum  in  reply  to  Mr.  Dross' 
interrogation,  "is  an  assistant  who  cuts  it  short.  You  are  suffering  from 
nervous  prostration,  and  you  people  are  so  painfully  exact  that  1  am  forced 
to  take  morphine  every  time  1  listen  to  your  narrative.  For  instance,  you 
will  tell  me  that  you  have  fullness  after  eating,  belching  of  wind,  sourness  in 
your  throat,  nausea,  a  feeling  as  if  you  wanted  to  vomit,  no  appetite,  uneasy 
sensation  in  the  region  of  your  stomach,  etc.,  etc.,  etc.  My  clerk  hears 
your  story  and  writes  down,  dyspeptic  symptoms.  Thus  he  abbreviates 
all  your  symptoms,  and  the  perusal  of  your  ailments  is  rendered  easy  for 
me." 

After  a  lapse  of  two  hours,  Mr.  Dross  was  again  brought  into  the  con- 
sultation-room of  Dr.  Cerebrum. 

"From  your  symptoms,"  said  the  latter,  "you  are  a  sufferer  from 
nervous  prostration,  and,  by  the  way,  I  note  you  are  from  the  West,  and 
from  a  city  where  they  manufacture  the  sovereign  and  infallible  remedy, 
'  Chewine.'  Have  you  ever  tried  the  remedy  ?" 

Mr.  Dross  replied  in  the  negative,  assuring  the  eminent  specialist  that 
he  was  the  manufacturer  of  the  medicine.  This  admission  seemed  to  please 
Dr.  Cerebrum  immensely,  and  he  laughed  heartily.  "  Why  don't  you  try 
the  remedy  ?"  suggested  the  celebrated  specialist. 

"  I  am  a  sufferer  from  nervous  prostration  myself,  and  I  am  anxious  to 
try  something  which  will  do  sufferers  from  this  complaint  some  good." 

Mr.  Dross  replied  that  he  manufactured  his  remedy  to  sell  only.  Again 
Dr.  Cerebrum  gave  vent  to  laughter ;  he  thought  earnestly  for  some  time. 


A    PATENT   MEDICINE.  49 

At  last  seizing  his  pen,  he  rapidly  wrote  a  few  lines  which  he  sealed  in  an 
envelope,  requesting  Mr.  Dross  to  present  it  at  a  neighboring  drug  store. 

"  If  you  will  take  six  bottles  of  that  medicine  which  1  have  prescribed 
for  you,"  said  Dr.  Cerebrum,  as  Mr.  Dross  was  leaving,  "  it  will  restore 
you  to  perfect  health." 

One  month  later  Mr.  Dross  called  on  Dr.  Cerebrum.  The  latter  was 
astounded  at  the  marvelous  change  in  his  patient.  Mr.  Dross  had  increased 
at  least  twenty-five  pounds  in  weight,  and  was  a  typical  specimen  of  per- 
fect physical  manhood. 

"Dr.  Cerebrum,  you  have  saved  my  life,  and  I  tender  you  in  pay- 
ment for  your  services  this  signed  check  which  you  can  fill  for  any  amount 
which  your  noble  nature  and  common  sense  may  dictate." 

Dr.  Cerebrum  allowed  the  latter  impulse  to  predominate,  and  filled  in 
the  check  for  $5,000.  "At  the  same  time,  doctor,  I  wish  to  present  you 
with  a  dozen  bottles  of  my  specific  for  nervous  prostration/' 

After  the  usual  exchange  of  courtesies,  Mr.  Dross  and  Dr.  Cerebrum 
took  an  ardent  farewell  from  one  another,  Mr.  Dross  returning  to  his  home 
to  superintend  the  sale  of  chewine.  Not  long  after  the  departure  of  Mr. 
Dross,  The  Weekly  Cholagogue  contained  an  extended  contribution  from  the 
eminent  specialist,  Dr,  Cerebrum,  entitled  "Autobiography  of  Nervous 
Prostration." 

The  medical  profession  was  dumbfounded  to  learn  that  such  a  conserva- 
tive physician  should  advocate  the  use  of  a  proprietary  remedy.  The  article 
in  question  related  in  detail  how  Dr.  Cerebrum,  a  sufferer  from  nervous  pros- 
tration, was  restored  to  health  after  taking  only  six  bottles  of  chewine. 

To  his  colleague,  Prof.  Neuron,  Dr.  Cerebrum  confided  the  fact,  that 
it  was  "chewine"  which  he  had  administered  to  Mr:  Dross,  and  it  was  to 
this  remedy  that  the  latter,  as  well  as  himself,  was  restored  to  perfect 
health. 

"  There  are  more  things  in  heaven  and  earth,  Horatio, 
Than  are  dreamt  of  in  our  philosophy." 


LEAF    X. 


TWO    DAYS    IN    SPAIN. 


TRAVEL  is,  in  the  abstract,  a  pleasurable  pastime.  A  tedious  ride  in  an 
uncomfortable  railway  carriage  along  the  beautiful  Riviera,  makes  the 

latter  supremely  unbeautiful.  The  uneven  road-bed  of  the  railroad 
ridicules  digestion,  which  even  pepsin  will  not  subdue.  I  arrived  at  Mar- 
seilles at  ii  P.  M.  The  train  for  Barcelona  leaves  one  hour  later. 

The  French  officials  talk  boisterously  with  their  arms  and  shoulders. 
The  locomotive  whistles  and  shrieks  spasmodically.  People  rush  wildly 
hither  and  thither.  All  is  confusion.  1  deposit  the  major  part  of  my  lug- 
gage, with  the  baggage  master,  receiving  in  return  a  diminutive  piece  of 
paper  about  the  size  of  a  postage  stamp.  It  is  my  receipt.  I  am  in  dread 
lest  it  should  evaporate. 

The  French  are  evidently  economical  in  employing  words,  even  though 
written.  *A  pourboire  to  the  railway  official,  after  which  act,  I  am  ushered 
into  a  compartment  of  the  railway  carriage,  which  seems  admirably  adapted 
for  the  comfort  of  an  asthmatic  who  enjoys  a  constrained  sitting  posture. 

Opposite  me  is  a  Spanish  beauty.  My  heart  throbs  convulsively. 
Your  Spanish  poet  is  right.  Cristoval  de  Castillejo,  you  have  struck  a  re- 
sponsive chord  in  my  thorax. 

"  How  dreary  and  lone 
The  world  would  appear, 
If  women  were  none  ! 
'Twould  be  like  a  fair, 
With  neither  fun  nor  business  there." 

The  train  moves  and  1  am  directed  toward  sunny  Spain.  The  train 
stops.  The  train  stops  again.  It  stops  several  times.  Nothing  to  relieve 
the  monotony  but  stops  and  the  vacillating  eyes  of  my  Spanish  beauty. 
She  breathes.  I  scent  it  from  afar.  Garlic.  As  the  odor  from  the  bulb- 
ous perennial  taints  the  atmosphere,  my  beauty  becomes  correspondingly 
less  beautiful.  She  is  loathsome.  Cristoval  de  Castillejo,  your  mendacity 
is  appalling.  Poetry,  bah  !  It's  a  disorder  of  the  imagination.  It  is  as 
ephemeral  and  fictitious  as  marital  bliss  (I  am  not  married,  but  some  of  my 
intimate  friends  are). 

Travelling  is  delightful.  My  quondam  Spanish  beauty  sleeps.  She 
involuntarily  raises  her  tiny  right  foot  and  plants  it  in  the  region  of  my 
stomach.  Ye  Gods  !  have  I  not  enough  to  endure  with  my  stomach  with- 
out her  putting  her  foot  into  it. 


TWO  DAYS   IN    SPAIN.  51 

She  awakes.  My  relief  is  only  momentary  ;  she  removes  her  foot,  but 
only  for  a  second.  She  falls  asleep  again.  Once  more  I  feel  the  imprint  of 
that  toot.  It  has  grown  to  fully  ten  times  its  original  size.  Ten  minutes 
more  of  agony.  The  train  stops.  That  accursed  train  is  forever  stopping. 
The  next  time  I  travel  toward  Spain  and  I  am  in  a  hurry,  I'll  walk.  She 
awakes.  The  foot  this  time  has  not  cast  its  moorings.  I  will  address  her 
and  politely  request  her  to  cast  my  stomach  adrift.  I  will  try  her  in  several 
languages. 

"  Do  you  speak  French  ?''  I  said,  in  the  purest  English.  A  negative 
shake  of  the  head.  "  Do  you  speak  English  ?"  I  resumed.  Another  shake 
of  the  head.  "  Perhaps  you  speak  German  ?"  1  cried  in  despair,  and  then 
the  monotous  negative  head  shake.  "  Confound  you,"  I  said,  "  here  I 
have  addressed  you  in  three  different  languages  and  you  can't  speak  any 
one  of  them.  I'll  try  her  in  Spanish." 

I  had  studied  Spanish  after  the  easy  conversational  method  in  anticipa- 
tion of  my  visit  to  Spain.  So  here  goes  ;  and  I  hurled  in  perfect  abandon- 
ment a  medley  of  sonorous  Spanish,  suggestive  of  the  removal  of  her  foot. 
I  paused  for  a  reply.  It  came. 

"  Eggskuse  me,  sair,"  she  said,  "  I  can  no  speak  ze  Anglish."  I  felt 
flattered.  The  easy  conversational  method  was  bearing  fruit.  The  train 
gave  a  sudden  lurch,  and  then  as  if  in  agony  it  stopped.  The  Spanish  fron- 
tier is  reached.  A  Spanish  official  is  uttering  a  command  in  a  boisterous 
voice.  1  regard  his  Spanish  as  simply  execrable.  I  can't  understand  a 
word  he  says.  My  companion  has  left  the  compartment ;  I  follow  and  am 
ushered  before  a  Spanish  officer,  who  directs  me  to  the  disinfecting  room. 
"  Cholera  in  Marseilles/'  he  says  laconically. 

It  is  2  A.  M.  and  cold.  There  is  a  wealth  of  rain.  What  can  one  ex- 
pect in  monarchies  but  reigning  sovereigns.  Travel  is  a  delightful  pastime, 
but  in  the  abstract.  Ten  minutes  for  disinfection.  It  must  have  been  ten 
hours,  if  my  feelings,  and  not  the  clock,  had  measured  the  time.  I  have 
crossed  the  Atlantic  Several  times,  sleeping  at  night  in  one  of  the  so-called 
rooms  on  board  of  the  steamer  and  imagined  in  consequence,  that  I  was 
immune  to  asphyxia.  1  am  sure  that  the  disinfection  received  at  the  Span- 
ish frontier  discounts  asphyxia  several  times  with  plenty  to  spare. 

The  disinfection  is  over ;  that  is  the  process.  The  effects  cling  closer 
than  a  postage  stamp  to  an  envelope.  Three  minutes  for  refreshments,  so 
I  inhale  a  few  whiffs  of  Spanish  climate,  O  !  I  wish  I  were  home. 

This  thought  recurs  numerous  times,  but  perish  the  idea,  for  travelling 
in  the  abstract  is  a  delightful  pastime,  even  in  Spain. 

I  am  in  the  compartment  of  the  railroad  train  again.  My  companion 
this  time  is  a  gentleman.  He  snores  artistically.  He  gives  vent  to  sounds 
clearly  limited  to  the  diatonic  scale. 

He  wears  spectacles.  He  wears  them  in  his  sleep.  He  must  like  to 
see  his  dreams.  My  stomach  is  playing  the  devil  with  me.  It  has  asserted 
its  dignity  already  three  times  and  seems  bound  to  throw  off  the  indignity 
heaped  upon  it — three  sausages  and  a  glass  of  French  wine — I  can  hardly 
blame  the  stomach,  so  I  don't.  The  train  moves.  I  am  surprised.  It  has 
only  stopped  five  times  since  leaving  the  station  fifteen  minutes  ago.  I 


52  TWO   DAYS    IN   SPAIN. 

have  fully  made  up  my  mind  that  there  is  no  place  like  home.  I  restrain 
the  thought.  Am  I  not  consummating  the  anticipated  dream  of  years  ?  If 
I  can  only  consume  this  tedium  by  reading,  but  the  snoring  of  my  vis  a  -vis 
has  already  reached  the  pentatonic  scale,  and  I  cannot  even  see  to  read.  I 
wish  he  would  wake  up  and  speak  to  me.  That  fellow  is  beginning  to 
snore  louder  than  ever.  It  becomes  positively  insufferable.  Decency  for- 
bids recording  my  thoughts  at  this  moment.  He  is  now  awake.  I  am  sure 
he  is  an  Englishman,  for  he  hasn't  said  a  word,  and  besides  he  incommodes 
me  by  trying  to  occupy  the  entire  compartment.  I  venture  to  ask  him  if 
he  is  rich.  He  replies  in  the  affirmative.  I  question  him  regarding  his  an- 
nual income.  He  answers,  "  about  ten  thousand  pounds  annually."  "  But 
pray,  why  do  you  ask  ?"  he  questioned  in  a  rising  inflection. 

"  Because,"  I  replied,  "  if  I  had  your  income  and  snored  as  badly  as 
you,  I  would  have  an  entire  train."  Silence  is  resumed.  The  train  to 
keep  itself  in  condition  stops  several  times.  I  learn  that  it  is  the  lightning 
express.  What  queer  names  they  have  for  such  trains  in  Spain  ? 

Daylight  is  appearing.  The  train  approaches  Barcelona.  The  Cata- 
lonian  peasants  in  holiday  attire  are  in  evidence.  The  lightning  express 
must  be  an  accommodation  train,  for  it  stops  long  enough  to  allow  passen- 

fsrs  to  exchange  greetings  with  their  friends  at  the  numerous  stations, 
arcelona  is  reached  at  last.  I  am  transported  to  the  hotel  in  a  vehicle 
which  looks  like  an  inverted  tomato.  The  vehicle  plays  dice  with  the  pas- 
sengers. It  has  thrown  six.  I  am  directed  to  a  cheerful  room  on  the  top 
floor,  which  is  very  small.  By  walking  I  will  be  compelled  to  lose  weight, 
for  it  is  only  an  attenuated  body  that  can  occupy  the  room.  While  engaged 
in  my  ablutions,  the  sound  of  trumpets  is  heard.  I  rush  out  into  the  street 
and  learn  that  there  is  going  to  be  a  bull-fight.  I  want  to  see  a  bull  fight. 
The  only  kind  I  ever  saw  in  America  were  fought  according  to  the  Marquis 
of  Queensbury  rules.  When  you  are  in  doubt  follow  the  crowd.  I  wish  I 
had  done  so.  I  see  the  building,  "A  Los  Toros,"  in  the  distance.  I  leave 
the  crowd  and  make  a  detour,  hoping  to  reach  the  amphitheatre  by  a 
shorter  route.  I  sink  into  a  morass  up  to  my  knees.  The  day  is  beginning 
ominously.  I  am  thinking  hard  in  this  soft  ground.  I  am  extricated  with  a 
sort  of  improvised  derrick.  1  repair  to  a  neighboring  clothier  and  purchase 
a  pair  of  epileptic  trousers.  I  call  them  epileptic  because  they  have  a  horri- 
ble fit.  1  am  now  quite  content  to  take  the  beaten  track. 

I  purchase  a  ticket  and  seat  myself  in  the  lower  gallery  in  a  front  seat. 
I  am  seated  among  the  rank  and  fashion  of  Spain.  Rank,  becase  their 
cigars  are  vile  ;  fashion,  because  the  customary  garlic  is  in  evidence  every- 
where. A  band  discourses  music,  but  the  musicians  are  courteous  enough 
to  atone  for  their  presence  by  cutting  it  short. 

The  bull-fight  has  now  commenced.  The  odor  of  garlic  is  less  mani- 
fest. The  excitement  is  so  intense  that  the  people  hold  their  breath.  My 
neighbor  on  my  right  faints  from  exhaustion.  I  presume  he  got  tired  from 
over-exertion  in  holding  his  breath.  One  would  at  least  think  so,  judging 
from  the  muscularity  of  his  breath.  The  gladiator,  the  matador  and  the 
pugilist  are  mere  examples  of  evolution  adapted  to  their  environment.,  but 
the  dominating  incentive,  cruelty,  is  always  the  same. 


TWO    DAYS   IN  SPAIN.  53 

The  spectators  have  cancelled  for  the  time  being  their  relation  to  mercy. 
They  are  not  present  to  witness  a  mere  scientific  contest.  In  a  word,  they 
want  to  see  blood.  No  doubt  there  were  hundreds  in  the  audience  at  the 
amphitheatre  who  were  disappointed  because  the  bull  had  not  gored  the 
picador  to  death. 

I  was  sorry  for  the  bull ;  he  was  having  a  hard  time  of  it.  The  ban- 
derillero  tries  to  affix  the  banderillas  into  the  neck  of  the  now  infuriated  ani- 
mal, and  he  succeeds.  The  fight  is  getting  interesting,  but  it  is  soon  over. 
The  bull  is  now  mortally  wounded.  The  puntillero  now  strikes  the  animal 
with  a  triangular  dagger  in  the  spinal  cord  to  produce  instant  death. 

Having  killed  the  bull  according  to  the  rules  of  the  game,  the  public 
now  reward  the  matador  by  applause  and  by  throwing  their  hats  and  cigars 
into  the  ring. 

I  admire  the  Spanish  method  of  disposing  of  bad  cigars.  In  our  coun- 
try, we  adopt  a  more  barbarous  method,  by  giving  them  to  our  friends. 
While  the  various  articles  are  being  thrown  into  the  arena,  I  thrust  my 
head  forward,  when  suddenly  I  feel  a  sensation  of  blood  trickling  down  my 

face. 

There  is  a  big  gash  in  my  scalp.  I  must  have  been  struck  by  a  cigar. 
They  smoke  very  heavy  cigars  in  Spain.  A  policeman  attempts  to  arrest 
the  hemorrhage,  but  in  vain,  the  blood  spurts  from  an  artery.  I  proceed  to 
leave  the  amphitheatre  to  obtain  the  services  of  a  surgeon.  He  stops  the 
hemorrhage  and  bandages  the  wound.  The  bandage  is  very  large,  and  I 
have  a  great  load  on  my  mind.  I  leave  the  amphitheatre  ;  a  mendicant 
approaches  and  I  give  him  a  peseta. 

Inspired  by  my  extravagance,  at  least  a  dozen  beggars  solicit  alms. 
One  more  importunate  than  the  others  thrusts  his  maimed  and  dirty  hand 
in  my  face.  1  push  him  away  and  he  falls.  This  is  the  signal  for  attack. 
About  one  hundred  mendicants  (at  the  time  of  the  occurrence  there  were 
probably  three,  but  distance  lends  exaggeration  to  the  fact)  surround  me 
and  attempt  to  do  me  personal  injury.  The  fortunate  presence  of  a  gend- 
arme protects  me  from  their  violence.  The  day  is  getting  very  portentous. 
1  must  escape  from  this  chapter  of  accidents.  I  hail  a  passing  vehicle  and 
direct  to  be  driven  to  my  hotel  at  once.  The  conveyance  lasts  about  one 
block  and  then  a  wheel  comes  off  and  the  vehicle  is  overturned.  I  am  com- 
pelled to  crawl  through  the  window.  It  was  a  very  narrow  escape  in  a 
double  sense. 

I  am  bursting  with  indignation,  so  have  my  epileptic  trousers.  The 
driver  arbitrarily  assesses  the  damage  at  one  hundred  pesetas.  We  com- 
promise the  matter  and  he  accepts  one  peseta.  I  will  trust  the  Spanish 
conveyance  no  longer.  I  will  walk  back  to  the  hotel,  notwithstanding  my 
trousers  to  the  contrary. 

At  last  I  reached  my  hotel.  I  send  for  the  clerk.  "Are  you  sure," 
said  I  to  the  latter,  "that  the  ceiling  is  secured,  and  will  you  please  put  a 
bulkhead  along  side  'the  chandelier,  send  up  five  fire  escapes,  turn  off  the 
gas,  and,  above  ail  things,  anchor  the  hotel/'  "The  fact  is,"  said  I  con- 
tinuing, "that  I  am  desperate  and  won't  take  any  more  chances." 


TWO  DAYS    IN   SPAIN. 


Then  1  related  to  the  dumbfounded  clerk  my  mishaps  of  the  day.  I 
would  like  to  leave  Spain  at  once,  but  the  clerk  tells  me,  that  the  lightning 
express  will  not  leave  until  the  following  night.  I  am  in  a  position  to  know 
something  about  their  lightning  express  trains.  So  1  enquire  when  the 
freight  goes  out,  as  I  am  in  a  hurry  to  get  away.  He  replies  that  the 
freight  train  will  also  leave  on  the  following  night  attached  to  the  lightning 
express. 

Before  leaving  Spain  I  want  to  indulge  myself  in  a  Spanish  dinner.  The 
meal  is  superb.  It  is  the  best  German  cooking  I  ever  tasted.  When  I  want 
a  Spanish  dinner  again,  1  will  go  to  Berlin,  where,  in  a  little  restaurant  off 
the  Linden,  I  can  get  an  excellent  meal.  The  next  day  is  beautiful. 
1  walk  along  the  Rambla.  1  need  a  pair  of  shoes.  The  saleslady  is  the 
wife  of  the  proprietor.  She  is  beautiful.  I  haven't  as  yet  detected  the 
odor  of  garlic.  1  don't  want  to  be  disillusioned.  I  spend  three  hours  in 
agreeable  conversation.  She  spoke  Spanish,  of  which  1  understood  noth- 
ing, and  1  French,  of  which  she  comprehended  quite  as  much,  yet  I  under- 
stood her  and  she  me.  I  purchased  a  pair  of  shoes,  "  at  a  reduction,"  she 
said.  I  didn't  observe  where  the  reduction  came  in,  but  it  came  in  all 
right.  As  soon  as  I  left  the  shop  with  my  feet  incased  in  the  new  shoes, 
the  reduction  became  manifest,  and  it  was  rapid.  I  couldn't  walk.  1  tried 
to  remove  the  shoes  in  the  usual  way,  but  failed.  I  had  to  cut  them  off  my 
feet.  My  feet  were  so  badly  swollen,  that  1  swathed  them  the  remainder 
of  the  day  in  a  solution  of  lead  water. 

1  am  glad  to  be  on  the  train  again.  The  incidents  attending  my  depar- 
ture from  Spain  are  not  worthy  of  record. 

1  got  into  an  altercation  with  the  conductor  about  the  genuineness  of  my 
ticket ;  1  was  mistaken  for  a  spy ;  a  couple  of  my  fellow-passengers  en- 
gaged in  a  rough  and  tumble  fight ;  an  indulgent  mother  used  me  as  a  mat- 
tress for  her  darling  son,  who  talked  in  his  sleep  ;  an  hysterical  woman 
insisted  on  fainting  when  she  found  that  I  had  a  flask  of  whiskey.  The 
attacks  ceased  as  soon  as  the  succulency  of  the  flask  was  no  more. 

Aside  from  these  minor  incidents,  the  return  journey  was  enjoyable 
which  warrants  my  exordium,  that  travel  is,  in  the  abstract,  a  pleasurable 
pastime. 


LEAF    XI. 


THE    PROFESSOR    OF    BACTERIOLOGY. 


THE  Professor  of  Bacteriology  or  Science  of  Germs  in  "  The  Never- 
Refuse-Any-One  Medical  College,"  was  Dr.  Horatius  Big  I. 

He  was  so  distinguished  that  he  suffered  the  dignity  of  getting  writers' 
cramp  every  time  he  wrote  his  name  and  suffixed  his  many  degrees ;  in 
fact  this  chirographal  feat  necessitated  the  employment  of  every  letter  of 
the  alphabet.  In  consequence,  one  could  say  of  him,  that  he  was  not  only 
a  man  of  letters,  but  a  man  of  the  alphabet. 

Oftentimes  he  would  say  to  me,  that  he  was  very  proud  of  being  able 
to  add  so  many  letters  to  his  name,  but  his  greatest  lament  was,  that  there 
were  not  more  letters,  in  the  English  alphabet. 

He  was  a  man  of  such  vast  erudition,  that  unlike  his  successful  com- 
petitor, Dr.  Laparot,  who  carried  his  head  in  a  sling,  he  had  to  give  vent 
to  his  excessive  brain  matter  by  the  operation  of  trepanation.  This  is, 
however,  mere  rumor,  but  judging  by  Dr.  Big  I's  great  business  sagacity, 
it  is  not  unlikely  that  it  is  true. 

His  clientele  was  the  largest  in  the  metropolis.  His  multicolored  carri- 
age and  richly  caparisoned  horses  were  the  envy  of  the  medical  profession. 

Dr.  Big  1's  fame  was  so  great  that  he  could  afford  to  tell  his  rich 
patients  that  there  was  nothing  the  matter  with  them.  He  knew  little  of 
the  current  medical  literature,  fearing  that  a  knowledge  of  medicine  would 
prejudice  him  in  the  treatment  of  his  patients. 

He  frequently  cited  an  instance  occurring  in  his  early  professional 
career  in  support  of  this  belief.  A  child  in  his  neighborhood  got  very  sick. 
The  parents  sent  for  an  eminent  German  physician.  The  latter  proceeded 
to  examine  the  child  most  thoroughly,  beginning  with  the  head  and  ending 
with  the  feet. 

The  examination  consumed  two  days.  The  child  became  no  better.  The 
parents  expostulated  with  the  physician  ;  he  assured  them  that  a  diagnosis 
was  imperative,  and  that  the  blood  of  the  child  demanded  investigation. 

At  this  time,  the  impatient  parents  in  the  absence  of  the  regular 
attendant  called  in  Dr.  Big  I.  The  latter  pronounced  the  case  one  of  "stom- 
ach-ache," and  without  hesitation,  prescribed  paregoric,  and  the  child  got 
well.  This  was  the  beginning  of  his  successful  career.  Dr.  Big  I  would 
often  say,  that  in  about  one  case  in  a  hundred  was  science  of  avail  in  the 


56  THE   PROFESSOR  OF  BACTERIOLOGY. 

treatment  of  patients,  and  he  believed  that  it  was  not  the  disease,  but  the 
patient  who  demanded  attention. 

Physicians  should  pleasantly  occupy  the  patient's  mind  to  prevent  it 
from  interfering  with  the  work  of  nature  in  the  cure  of  their  disease. 

One  day,  in  the  height  of  Dr.  Big  I's  fame,  when  his  office  was 
crowded  with  patients,  many  of  whom  were  threatened  with  cure,  before 
they  could  consult  the  great  man,  a  book-agent  entered  his  waiting-room. 
The  latter  in  obedience  to  a  tradition  of  questionable  origin,  sought  the 
consultation-room  ahead  of  all  the  patients.  The  book-agent  kindly  con- 
sented to  consume  about  twenty  dollars  of  the  physician's  time  in  trying  to 
sell  him  a  work  recently  published,  and  entitled 

THE   SCIENCE   OF   BACTERIOLOGY. 

Now,  Dr.  Big  I  knew  very  little,  in  fact  nothing  at  all,  about  bacteriol- 
ogy. He  had  even  lectured  on  the  subject  before  the  students  of  his  col- 
lege. To  quote  his  own  language,  "  he  was  remotely  interested  in  bugs, 
and  would,  therefore,  purchase  the  book/' 

The  book  was  conspicuously  displayed  in  his  elaborate  book  case  for 
many  months  without  being  read.  One  day  in  a  spirit  of  forgetfulness  he 
consulted  his  extensive  medical  library.  His  eyes  encountered  the  work  on 
bacteriology.  He  read  one  page,  and  then  he  read  .another.  He  read  a 
chapter.  He  forgot  to  respond  to  a  call  from  a  rich  client  who  was  very 
sick,  and  who  in  the  meanwhile  got  well.  He  read  way  into  the  early  hours 
of  the  morning  until  he  had  finished  the  book,  and  then  Dr.  Horatius  Big  I 
was  a  changed  man. 

He  read  of  the  well  nigh  universal  distribution  of  bacteria  or  germs. 
He  learned  that  they  inhabited  the  water,  the  food  we  eat,  and  even  luxu- 
riated in  the  soil  beneath  our  feet. 

These  ubiquitous  germs  were  as  plentiful  as  medical  colleges,  and  with 
a  pernicious  tendency  almost  as  intense.  He  learned  how  bacteria  could 
abridge  life,  and  by  entering  the  human  organism  torture  the  host  with  all 
the  viciousness  of  a  successful  surgeon  trying  to  be  gentle. 

It  was  soon  remarked  by  every  one,  that  Dr.  Big  I  always  avoided 
the  conventional  salutation  of  hand-shaking.  Heretofore  he  had  always 
greeted  even  his  most  casual  acquaintances  most  cordially.  The  fact  was, 
he  became  a  confirmed  bacteriophobe.  One  of  his  friends  took  him  to  task 
for  refusing  to  accept  his  hand.  He  made  no  immediate  reply  to  this 
charge,  but  taking  from  his  pocket  a  glass  tube  containing  a  liquid  resem- 
bling beef-tea,  he  gently  scraped  the  hand  of  his  friend  with  a  little  instru- 
ment, and  at  once  introduced  the  latter  into  the  contents  of  the  tube. 

"  Now,"  said  Dr.  Big  I,  "  this  is  the  preliminary  of  an  argument 
which  I  will  demonstrate  to  you  in  three  days,  so  please  call  at  my  office  in 
that  time." 

Three  days  elapsed,  and  the  friend  presented  himself.  Dr.  Big  1 
removed  from  an  oven-like  apparatus  the  same  glass  tube  of  three  days 
before.  "You  see  this  tube,  the  liquid  which  it  contains  is  no  longer 
clear,"  said  the  physician,  "  it  is  cloudy.  I  wiil  put  a  single  drop  under 


THE   PROFESSOR  OF  BACTERIOLOGY.  57 

the  microscope — you  observe  that  the  single  drop  contains  myriads  of 
germs.  Originally  there  were  perhaps  only  a  hundred  of  these  germs  on 
your  hand,  but  they  have  multiplied  many  times  by  introducing  them  in  a 
fluid  suitable  for  their  growth  and  propagation.  If  I  had  shaken  your 
hand,  1  would  have  contaminated  my  own  hand,  and  perhaps  infected  my- 
self, for  remember,  that  the  germs  which  may  be  innocuous  to  you  may  be 
truly  dangerous  to  me." 

This  crucial  demonstration  gained  Dr.  Big  I  a  proselyte  to  Bacterio- 
phobia.  When  Dr.  Big  I  visited  his  patients  he  always  wore  a  mask  over 
his  nose  and  mouth  to  prevent,  he  said,  the  germs  of  disease  from  entering 
his  lungs.  He  had  always  been  an  affectionate  husband.  Now,  all  was 
changed.  He  greeted  his  wife  no  longer  with  the  kiss  which  emphasized 
the  poetry  of  love.  When  she  remonstrated  with  him  for  his  change  of 
affection,  he  replied,  "  that  deadly  microbes  lurked  in  the  impracticable 
kiss.  If  we  must,  for  the  sake  of  conventionality  suffer  ourselves  to 
indulge  in  the  osculatory  act,  let  it  be  with  the  mutual  understanding  that 
we  use  previously  an  antiseptic  mouth  wash." 

His  poor  wife  suffered  this  exaction,  and  nearly  died  from  carbolic 
acid  poisoning,  because  her  husband  had  insisted  on  her  using  a  solution 
almost  pure. 

This  tribute  of  affection  was  in  time  done  away  with,  because  it 
required  too  much  time  to  disinfect  the  mouth,  and  time  was  now  an  im- 
portant desideratum  to  Dr.  Big  I  in  his  slavish  devotion  to  the  study  of 
bacteriology. 

When  he  retired  at  night,  he  tainted  the  atmosphere  of  his  room  to  such 
an  extent  with  antiseptics,  that  he  was  found  in  the  morning,  at  least  four 
times  on  different  occasions,  almost  dead  from  asphyxiation.  To  prevent 
the  germs  of  disease  from  contaminating  his  body,  he  wore  a  suit  of 
absorbent  cotton,  which  he  believed  filtered  the  air  and  prevented  th  e 
germs  from  reaching  the  body  He  incased  his  feet  in  grotesque  looking 
shoes  made  of  antiseptic  gauze  to  prevent  contamination  from  the  soil.  His 
meals  were  of  his  own  making.  He  employed  sterilized  dishes,  which  were 
previously  washed  in  antiseptic  solutions.  If  by  accident,  while  at  his 
meal,  his  hands  came  in  contact  with  an  article  of  furniture,  he  would  at 
once  immerse  them  in  a  strong  solution  of  carbolic  acid,  which  was  always 
in  readiness  at  his  side.  He  would  no  longer  examine  his  patients  unless 
they  consented  during  an  examination  to  remain  immersed  in  a  bath  of  cor- 
rosive sublimate,  or  some  other  potent  antiseptic  solution. 

It  was  but  natural  for  many  of  his  patients  to  resent  this  mode  of 
treatment,  and  so  it  came  to  pass  that  in  time,  Dr.  Horatius  Big  I,  the  once 
distinguished  Professor  of  Bacteriology,  was  without  patients. 

Owing  to  his  fear  that  germs  might  contaminate  his  food,  his  nourish- 
ment became  reduced  to  a  minimum,  and  he  became  reduced  to  a  skeleton. 
There  is  a  skeleton  in  every  household.  He  was  his  own  family  skele- 
ton. The  germ  mania  haunted  him  by  night  as  well  as  day.  He  remained 
awake  at  night,  lest  the  germ  of  insomnia  should  escape  filtration  through 
his  filter,  and  thus  enter  his  lungs. 


58  THE   PROFESSOR  OF  BACTERIOLOGY. 

His  condition  became  deplorable.  The  expostulations  of  his  friends 
and  family  were  without  avail.  He  had  graduated  from  bacteriophobia  and 
had  become  a  bacteriomaniac.  The  medical  society  of  which  he  was  a 
distinguished  member,  appointed  a  committee  (the  chairman  of  which  was 
Dr.  Sartorius  of  the  Antiseptic  Club)  to  investigate  his  case. 

In  due  time  the  committee  waited  on  him.  They  presented  argument 
after  argument  in  proving  the  falsity  of  Dr.  Big  1's  belief.  Nearly  all  the 
germs,  they  argued,  were  absolutely  harmless,  and  they  even  consented  to 
swallow  all  the  bacteria  Dr.  Big  I  had  in  his  laboratory. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Dr.  Big  I,  "I  appreciate  the  elegance  of  your  dic- 
tion and  the  cogency  of  your  sophistry.  Microbes  lurk  everywhere  ;  they 
threaten  us  with  destruction.  I  love  my  wife  so  dearly,  that  I  dare  not 
imperil  her  life  or  my  own  by  the  act  of  kissing.  If  I  could  be  convinced, 
that  there  were  no  diseased  germs  in  the  kiss,  I  would  consent  to  dispense 
with  all  the  appurtenances  which  I  employ  in  combating  the  deadly  mi- 
crobe." 

"  If  we  could  bring  you  proof,"  said  the  members  of  the  committee  in 
unison,  "that  no  death  ever  results  from  a  kiss,  will  you  be  convinced  ?" 

"1  will,"  replied  Dr.  Big  I,  "but  you  must  bring  me  proof  at 
once,  or  otherwise  I  will  depart  for  some  high  Alpine  altitude  where  my 
friend  Prof.  Jerome  Harris  tells  me  there  are  no  germs  in  the  atmosphere." 

The  committee  consented  to  conduct  their  investigations  in  the  pres- 
ence of  Dr.  Big  I  in  a  large  hall,  engaged  for  the  occasion.  The  next  day, 
the  good  inhabitants  of  the  metropolis  were  astounded  to  read  in  the  morn- 
ing paper  the  following  notice  : 

44 A  committee  composed  of  three  physicians  has  been  appointed  by  the 
County  Medical  Society,  to  investigate  the  bacteriology  of  kissing.  With 
this  object  in  view  all  lady  applicants  of  scientific  proclivities  must  present 
themselves  at  the  town  hall  this  afternoon  between  the  hours  of  two  and 
four.  Applicants  between  the  ages  of  sixteen  and  twenty-four  preferred." 

That  afternoon,  long  before  the  time  appointed,  the  streets  leading  to 
the  town  hall  were  densely  packed  with  women  of  all  ages,  ranging  from 
ten  to  ninety  years  of  age.  In  the  motley  group  one  could  note,  the  demure 
miss,  the  mature  old  maid,  mothers,  grandmothers — in  fact  every  species 
of  woman  known  to  man. 

Never  before  in  the  history  of  the  world,  were  devotees  of  science  so 
clamorous  for  investigation.  Within  the  town  hall,  the  committee  from  the 
medical  society,  was  anxiously  awaiting  the  hour,  when  the  investigation 
should  begin.  Tubes  containing  bouillon  for  growing  the  germs  were  sup- 
plied in  abundance  by  Dr.  Big  I. 

The  mode  of  procedure  agreed  upon  was  as  follows  :  Immediately 
after  the  execution  of  the  osculatory  act,  the  lips  of  the  recipient  were  to 
be  scraped  with  a  small  instrument,  and  the  latter  to  be  at  once  immersed 
in  the  culture  tube.  When  the  time  for  the  scientific  experiment  had 
arrived,  one  hundred  applicants  were  admitted  into  the  hall.  The  murmurs 
of  discontent  from  the  frantic  women  on  the  outside  reached  the  ears  of  the 
committee,  but  as  true  devotees  of  science,  they  concerned  themselves  only 
with  the  work  before  them.  The  hundred  women  were  apportioned  into 
three  groups,  the  maiden,  the  old  maids  and  the  matrons. 


THE  PROFESSOR  OF  BACTERIOLOGY.  59 

Discord  at  once  arose  among  the  committee  as  to  whom  should  be 
assigned  to  the  different  groups.  Lots  were  drawn,  and  by  the  usual  perversity 
of  fate  the  nonagenarian  of  the  committee  was  assigned  to  the  group  of  maid- 
ens, the  sexagenarian  member  was  assigned  to  the  group  of  matrons,  while 
the  remaining  member  of  the  committee,  Dr.  Bullard,  a  young  man,  recog- 
nized as  the  Adonis  of  the  profession,  was  assigned  to  the  remaining  group. 

When  the  result  was  announced  by  Dr.  Big  I,  the  matrons  and  maid- 
ens filed  indignantly  out  of  the  hall. 

Science  recognizes  no  sentiment.  Dr.  Bullard  knew  this,  and  he  forth- 
with began  his  work.  He  had  not  finished  more  than  about  a  dozen  of  the 
group  before  Dr.  Big  I  objected  to  the  momentary  duration  of  the  kiss,  it 
must  be  longer,  otherwise  no  microbes  could  be  transmitted. 

With  desperation  akin  to  madness,  Dr.  Bullard  proceeded  with  his 
labor.  Before  three  of  the  group  had  been  disposed  of,  Dr.  Bullard  was 
seen  to  grow  deadly  pale  and  fell  heavily  to  the  floor. 

Dr.  Big  I  seemed  transported  with  joy.  He  saw  that  triumph  was 
his,  and  that  Dr.  Bullard,  even  if  he  were  not  dead,  was  at  least  overcome 
with  the  severity  of  infection. 

Thus  ended  the  work  of  the  committee  appointed  by  the  medical  soci- 
ety, which  was  a  disappointment  to  every  one  with  the  exception  of  Dr. 
Big  I  and  the  women  who  had  been  kissed  by  Dr.  Bullard. 

Dr.  Big  I  returned  to  his  home  more  than  ever  convinced  of  the  cor- 
rectness of  his  views.  While  he  was  making  preparations  to  depart  for 
some  high  Alpine  altitude,  there  arrived  in  the  city  one  of  the  leading  alien- 
ists of  the  world. 

The  latter  was  summoned  to  the  home  of  Dr.  Big  I,  and  after  an  ex- 
amination of  his  head,  announced  that  by  the  removal  of  a  small  center  in 
the  brain  lying  quite  superficially,  he  could  cure  Dr.  Big  1  ;  for  beyond  per- 
adventure  of  a  doubt,  he  was  a  mentally  sick  man. 

This  noted  alienist  said  that  the  insanity  from  which  Dr.  Big  I  suffered 
was  due  to  the  too  rapid  growth  of  a  certain  brain  center.  If  the  growth 
were  gradual  and  too  much  tension  were  not  put  on  the  delicate  brain  cells, 
a  development  would  result,  which  would  make  the  possessor  a  genius,  but 
let  the  converse  condition  of  things  bear  on  the  center,  and  the  result  was 
a  lunatic. 

Three  days  after  the  removal  of  the  brain  center,  Dr.  Big  I  asked  for 
his  wife,  and  when  the  latter  entered  the  room,  he  pressed  a  fervent  kiss 
on  her  lips,  and  thus  broke  down  the  barrier  which  had  so  long  separated 
him  from  the  rational  world. 

Dr.  Big  I  rapidly  acquired  his  former  practice.  He  was  now  more  than 
ever  before  fitted  to  practice  medicine,  for  not  only  did  he  lose  some  of  his 
brain  matter,  but  he  lost  all  knowledge  of  bacteriology,  and  thus  having  no 
knowledge  to  prevent  disease  the  number  of  his  patients  increased,  while 
those  in  the  practice  of  other  physicians  who  applied  the  doctrines  of  bac- 
teriology, proportionately  decreased. 

Dr.  Big  I  is  happy,  and  so  is  Mrs.  Big  I,  and  while  bacteriology  has 
lost  a  patron,  it  has  summoned  to  its  threshold  many  healthy  devotees  who 
are  building  the  fundament  of  the  future  state  of  medicine,  The  Prevention 
of  Disease. 


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